Fool For You
by The Hand of Destiny
Summary: A regular small town girl in Tokyo, Kinomoto Sakura accepts a job she never thought she would have. When she meets Li Syaoran, a rude, insensitive client she never expected to like him. Yet she falls for the man and just when she thought her happily ever after was written in stone, she discovers the one thing that could ruin that - she's the other woman.
1. You Always Remember Your First Time

**Chapter One**

**You Always Remember Your First Time**

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

Icy, razor-sharp winds sliced at the faces of people walking the city's pavements, huddled tightly beneath their coats while trying not to slip on patches of ice that had accumulated the night before. It was one of the worst days in one of the last months of winter. Kinomoto Sakura, who was snuggled tight under her oversized Hello Kitty sweater in her favourite noodles shop, glanced up sympathetically at passers-by through the foggy windows. She tapped her chopsticks together unconsciously before turning back to the steaming, half-eaten bowl of noodles and broth in front of her.

As she ate, her eyes scanned the classifieds in the newspaper she had spread out on the table. She had been fired two weeks ago from the job her brother had gotten her waiting tables in a family-run diner. They were not doing so well anymore and had to let staff go. Regrettably, her occasional tardiness and odd moments of clumsy behaviour made her quite the expendable employee. She could not be upset. She would have fired her too if she could find it in herself to take away someone's livelihood.

Not having a job and yet having to pay rent in Tokyo was a death sentence. Her big brother Touya did say living on her own would be hard. To be specific, he said she would never last a week but it had already been two months, so she supposed she showed him. Even with that accomplishment, she found it difficult to ask for help. When he was working through university with multiple part-time jobs, he had never once asked for help.

Sakura's stomach twisted into painful knots. She would not give up! She needed a life of her own and her father and brother needed lives of their own - ones that did not revolve around funding her for the rest of their lives. Seeing how hard her father worked as a single dad made her want to pave her own way and pay him back for the wonderful childhood he had given to her. She smiled to herself. It would be wonderful if she could find some meaningful work in life. Her father had archaeology, her brother had medicine - she wanted something too. And she felt a slight pressure to hurry because her father was dropping some serious hints about her getting married.

Not that she did not want that. She would love that. But she could be like her mother. She could work _and_ be a good wife and mom. Her father had told her that it made her mother very happy to have a life of her own, doing something she enjoyed. Sakura could only hope that her future husband would be as understanding and kind-hearted as her dear Otou-san.

She picked up a mouthful of noodles with her chopsticks and inhaled the salty goodness. This would be the last time she ate out, she swore to herself for the third time that week. Slurping the noodles into her mouth, she continued to read the job ads, her spirit shrivelling just a little with each consecutive one.

They all required qualifications she did not have and could never hope to have. The noodles in Sakura's mouth began to taste like thick clumps of glue. Would she have to admit defeat? Would she have to go home after all? Though she had no close friends in Tokyo she still loved being in the city, doing her own thing, and she wanted some more time to explore all that the city had to offer. So many success stories started here, and she may be dreaming but she felt like she could be one of those stories.

A girl that could only be described as Goth-cool strolled into the noodles shop with a guitar case in hand. She ordered the cheapest thing on the menu and paid the cashier with coins. Sakura sighed. She bet that girl had the same dream she had. Only, that girl most likely had a talent whereas she had nothing but a severe case of optimism.

She raised her bowl off the edge of the newspaper and flipped the page before setting it down again. She came across an ad that had been in the newspaper everyday that week. It was a simple ad but she could not figure out what the job was exactly. All that was printed was:

**NOW HIRING**

**MODEL TYPES**

**FEMALES ONLY (21 - 28 yrs)**

Sakura thought about the lack of money in her bank account and heaved another sigh. She could not pass up a job that did not ask for university degrees. Plus, she was twenty-three going on twenty-four - part of the exact age range that had been requested. Besides, her late mother had been a catalogue model and even though Sakura did not think she could measure up to her in looks, she figured, she would give the job a try. So she whipped out her cell phone from her sweater pocket and dialled the number.

"Hikaru House, Naoko speaking! How may I be of service?"

"Ano," said Sakura, quietly. "I saw your ad in the newspaper."

"You're interested in employment then?" asked Naoko, in an upbeat voice. "We're interviewing girls right now. You can come down today or you can come on the weekend."

"This may sound silly but do I need to bring a résumé?" asked Sakura. "I'm not sure..."

"Oh no," said Naoko, laughing lightly. "Just bring yourself. Let me give you the address."

Sakura scribbled down the building address on a torn piece of the newspaper. The place was in one of the more upscale sides of Tokyo and a bit far away. However, it was not like she had anything better to do. She went to her apartment nearby to get dressed in model-appropriate attire before heading off to the interview for a job she still knew nothing about.

* * *

When Sakura walked through the glass doors of Hikaru House, her jaw dropped open. She had expected models but the long-limbed, glossy-haired, unbelievably gorgeous females that filled the lobby were not models. They could _not_ be models.

They would have to be humans first.

It was a gigantic, ostentatious display of blindingly white smiles, brand-named attire, perfect manicures and sky high heels. Sakura looked down at her white t-shirt and plain jeans. She tugged her black department store coat around her frame in horror. Why did she never walk with makeup in her bag? Why had she never learned to apply it properly? Why were all her family members men? She would have cried if it would not have drawn attention to her.

A girl, looking just as exquisite as all the other, but wearing a crisp business skirt suit walked up to her, clipboard in hand.

"I assume _you're_ interviewing for the new clerk position?" she asked, pen poised over the sheet of paper on the clipboard.

Sakura brushed her cold, damp bangs out of her eyes.

"Oh... I'm not sure. I saw your ad in the newspaper for model-type girls..."

The other girl gave her a long, embarrassing once over.

"I see."

Sakura took a step back, ready to run and hide her face in shame beneath the non-judgemental pillows of her bed, far, far away. But the girl shrugged.

"Name?" she breathed, like she had better things to do.

"K-Kinomoto Sakura."

She wrote it down and gave her a number.

"Wait to be called," she said, before moving on to another girl who had just walked into the building.

Sakura went over to an empty chair in the corner of the lobby and sat down, head bowed low so she could not see the esteem-shredding gazes of the other girls. She chewed on her bottom lip as she waited. She needed this job and judging from the designer labels a lot of the other interviewees were wearing, she needed it more than them. If only she knew what it was though - not that she had a chance with all the competition in the room. _Why_ did they have to look so perfectly photoshopped? She sank further into her seat. Desperation and that severe case of optimism made her stay.

Almost two hours later, her number was called and she found herself sitting in a bright, eclectic office, staring across a glass table at a seemingly ageless woman. While in the waiting room, she had learned that the woman was called Matsushita Satomi. The girls had spoken of Satomi with such reverence that as Sakura walked into the room and saw her, she almost felt like she should go into a full kowtow.

Matsushita was a perfectly polished gem of a woman, reeking of worldliness, education and strong will. Her thick black hair was pulled up into an elegant updo that matched the sophistication of her black dress. And, like the girl out front, she gave Sakura a less than appraising once over.

Sakura's cheeks reddened and again she wanted to run for the hills and be the uncivilized creature this woman made her feel like.

"Have you any experience in this profession Kinomoto-san?"

Sakura shook her head.

"I'm not exactly sure _what_... the job is? What kind of model are you looking for?"

She felt so ignorant sitting there with this exquisite woman and yet not having a clue about what she was talking about. Why did she not ask someone in the lobby? Oh right. She had not wanted them to notice the ugly stain in the room. Satomi sat back in her chair and looked at her with a monk's patience.

"The Hikaru House hires courtesans, Kinomoto-san."

"Courtesans?" asked Sakura.

A moment passed in silence and again Satomi waited patiently for her to catch up. Sakura's eyes widened when realization hit her with the force of a thousand suns. Did she just walk into an escort agency? Was she interviewing to be an escort at that very minute? The fine hairs on the back of her neck raised and it took all the politeness within her to remain sitting in her seat. What had she gotten herself into now? Her brother would kill her! Well maybe that was extreme. He would probably tie her up, throw her in a car, drive her back home and lock her up in her father's basement. Yes. That sounded more like him.

"You are from where, Kinomoto-san?" asked Satomi, her even disposition turning into one of mild interest.

"Tomoeda," said Sakura, trying to understand why the woman was suddenly smiling.

"A small town. And you've lived there all your life?"

Sakura smiled.

"Hai."

"Tell me about it. I've heard there are beautiful parks there."

"There are!"

Sakura told Satomi everything interesting she could think of about Tomoeda. She told her where to find the best places to eat, to have fun and, to relax. She even had the woman laughing lightly with a town story involving a quarrelling couple and the unfortunate police officer who was trying to break up the fight. Like all residents, she was proud of where she came from and once she got started talking about the peaceful town she could hardly bear to stop.

It was the strangest interview she had ever had. It seemed more like she was talking to a friend than a potential employer. It was not long before she was telling Satomi about her dating life or lack thereof, that is. When silence finally fell after what could have been a good hour, Satomi leaned forward and gave an endearing smile.

"Would you like to work for me, Kinomoto-san?"

A chill ran down Sakura's spine. She had enjoyed talking to Satomi - had practically fallen for the woman - but this job certainly was not one she could tell her family about. It did not seem right.

"You've heard a lot of things about agencies like mine, I'm sure," said Satomi. "Some of them are no doubt true but at the Hikaru House we respect and value our girls. Our clients are typically affluent older men who want the company of young, vibrant girls such as yourself. You receive money and they receive beauty. It's an even exchange."

She paused to let her words sink in.

"W-what do the girls have to do?" asked Sakura, unconsciously rubbing her arm.

"Entertain them," said Satomi. "You can do so at a party, their hotel, your hotel, the list goes on. You have intellectual conversations with them and accompany them as dates for events."

The word 'hotel' echoed as loud as a foghorn in Sakura's mind.

"Do the girls have to... have to... ano..."

"As I said Kinomoto-san, most of my clients are older men. However, attraction does occur every now and then. What adults agree to do in their private time is no concern of mine. But my girls are forbidden from offering sexual intercourse with clients as a part of their entertaining. That would be illegal, wouldn't it?"

Satomi's eyes narrowed ever so slightly and Sakura shrank in her seat.

"Hai."

"You're such a sweetheart," said Satomi. "You needn't worry. If you are uncomfortable entertaining in hotels, you don't have to entertain in hotels. That is not what I see for you in any case. I see greater opportunities."

"Hoe?"

"Did I mention what compensation you would be getting?" asked Satomi. "You may receive anything from one thousand to to six thousand US dollars per date."

Sakura gasped. That much? Really? She could do a lot with that money and would no longer have to worry about her rent. Sugoi!

"Of course we take 50% commission."

Sakura deflated. Oh well. It was still a lot more than she was making now. _Zilch_.

"I will not throw you to the wolves Kinomoto-san," said Satomi, her voice like a siren's call luring her ever forward. "This is an elite agency. We have our share of celebrity clientele and as such you will need to be trained and groomed first."

Sakura blinked. Did she miss something? Satomi's tone suggested that she had accepted work at the Hikaru House. Wait. Did she say celebrities?

"We have several courtesans you can talk with to relieve any residual fears or concerns you may have."

That sounded reasonable to Sakura, and she realized that she _was_ accepting the job without even saying a word. It was a bad habit of hers not speaking up but Satomi seemed so nice and genuine - like a well-meaning aunt who took it upon herself to look after you and teach you things your mother could not because she was your mother.

"A lot of my former girls have gone on to become television hosts, businesswomen, actresses, singers. The experience at the Hikaru House makes you a better, wholesome woman who has the confidence to go out and take what she wants out of life. It's empowering, liberating and only a select few will ever have such a platform as this to set the tone for the rest of their lives. Right now you are a girl Kinomoto Sakura. Do you want to become a woman?"

Sakura drunk in her words with a Saharan thirst. All she had to do was go on a few dates and she would make a lot of money. She would learn life skills to be the best person she could be. She never had a mother to guide her like Satomi; and the woman seemed so trustworthy. Working for her did not sound like a bad thing now that she thought about it. She wanted to become a woman. She wanted to be just like Satomi. _Yes_.

"Yes."

"I assume you'll be able to start right away?" asked Satomi, rising to her feet.

Entranced, Sakura nodded, even though a 'no' was peeping out somewhere from the back of her throat.

"See Naoko before you leave. She'll tell you everything you need to know."

Walking out of the office, Sakura's legs began to wobble when the reality of her situation hit her. She was an escort - or courtesan as Satomi called it. She was half-expecting to wake up from this dream and find herself back in her apartment, warm beneath her covers but no matter how hard she pinched herself, she remained in that moment.

"Matsushita-san asked you to work? Personally?" asked Naoko when Sakura reached her desk. Naoko was a thin, unworldly but good-natured girl about Sakura's age who seemed more like an investigative journalist than a secretary. "That almost never happens. She usually plays hard to get. A lot of girls want to work here you know. But we only have about twenty girls at any one time."

"Really?" asked Sakura.

"Give or take, yes," said Naoko. Her brown eyes were wide behind her round spectacles. "She must really like you. She's only picking two other girls this quarter. We have standards to maintain and she likes taking time to train everyone thoroughly."

Naoko took down all her information and even pulled out a measuring tape and held it around Sakura's body for measurements. Sakura flushed.

"Is that really necessary?" she asked.

"Yes. Together with the pictures we'll take of you for the website, it will give clients an idea of what they're getting."

Sakura paled at the word 'pictures'. What kind of pictures was Naoko talking about? What did it matter what her measurements were if they were only going on dates? The secretary looked up at her.

"Don't worry," she said. "They're all tasteful. Just like what you would take at the beach. No one will see your face either."

That was a relief at least. She liked to think the best of the men in her family but she did not like the idea of them visiting escort websites and seeing pictures of her. Was it strange that she feared her brother's wrath more than her father's?

"Congratulations Kinomoto-san," said Naoko, giving Sakura a bright smile. "You're one of the family now. I'll see you back here tomorrow morning at eight and we'll do all the boring contract things and brief you on what's expected."

Walking out into the bright sunshine, Sakura was pleased to see the sun shining brightly in the sky, its rays prickling the skin of her face even though snow was drizzling heavily. She looked back at the building that was the Hikaru House with its dark one-way mirrors. Was it too late to change her mind? It felt like it. She did not like disappointing people and Satomi had taken a chance on her. How could she go back inside and seem ungrateful? She steeled her shoulders and took step after determined step away from the building.

She would not work there longer than a year, she told herself. She would work until she had enough money to comfortably support herself, discover what she wanted out of life and that was it. The money she would be making, she could probably even put herself through a technical school or something and get a more socially acceptable job.

Sakura grinned on her way to the subway station. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she had a direction in life. A plan of action. And that was indeed empowering.

* * *

The weeks passed and winter turned to spring. The last cherry blossoms of the season painted the streets pink and white and the sweet scent of life was thick in the air. Two long months had passed since Sakura had met Matsushita Satomi and had been welcomed as a courtesan of the Hikaru House. After all the training Satomi had promised, Sakura was not certain that it had changed her drastically in anyway since it had been all etiquette and massages mostly. But tonight would be the test. Last month, she had even been given a new name to work under.

"Sakamoto Ayame," she reminded herself as he stared into the full-length mirror in her bedroom.

With her high-lighted short hair, her skin glowing from many cosmetic treatments and her body dressed in the most slimming cocktail dress she had ever worn, Sakura did in fact feel less like Kinomoto Sakura and more like Sakamoto Ayame. That was a good thing, she reasoned. It gave her the anonymity and mask she needed to do what she was about to do. Fingers crossed, she would not embarrass herself.

She picked up her clutch from her bed and walked out of her small apartment, tripping over the front-door mat.

"Hoe!" she exclaimed, her knees knocking together as she steadied herself.

Ignoring that slip-up, she went downstairs to meet with a more experienced courtesan named Kazumi who was waiting in a black luxury sedan. From there, they went to meet their date. Sakura did not know anything about him or what he looked like. Kazumi was preening herself in the mirror of her powder compact and she was so intimidatingly stunning with her dainty little mouth and long lashes, Sakura dared not disturb her to ask questions about their date.

"How do you feel?" asked Kazumi, snapping her compact shut as they pulled up outside a high-scale restaurant in the heart of Shinjuku.

"A bit sick," said Sakura, apologetically.

"That's normal," said Kazumi, waiting for the driver to open the car door. "I've been out with this client before though. He's lovely. Perfect for your first dance."

When they got out the car, Sakura felt dwarfed by Kazumi's tall, willowy frame. It did not help that the girl really was a working model who Sakura had seen in magazines once or twice.

"Thank you for coming with me," Sakura told her.

"I've never chaperoned a newbie before," said Kazumi, sending her a smile as dazzling as the stars up above. "It's time that I paid it forward. My chaperone was very understanding with me but she did have her bitch moments."

Sakura giggled and Kazumi gave their names to the Maître d'. He led them to a table at the far left of the restaurant floor that was so polished, the chandeliers above them were reflected in the marble. The gentleman who sat there looked like somebody's grandfather - friendly, tastefully aged but very old. He stood as they approached and they all bowed to one another.

"It's a pleasure to see you again," Kazumi told him. She beckoned to Sakura. "This is your date, Sakamoto Ayame. Ayame, this is Ebisawa Koshiro."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Sakura, smiling, though her insides were reverberating with trepidation. "Please call me Ayame."

Sitting to the right of Koshiro, Sakura studied the man. He had a full head of hair that had gone mostly grey. The wrinkles around his mouth and eyes told her he had smiled a lot in his youth and his rough, weather-beaten hands said he knew manual labour once.

"You are very young and pretty Ayame," said Koshiro, when their main meal arrived. "I hope you're not disappointed that you have to entertain an old man like me."

"I'm not," reassured Sakura and it was the truth. She was nervous but Koshiro seemed quite pleasant. "I can tell we'll have a good time together, Ebisawa-san."

"I look forward to it."

Kazumi pouted and hit him playfully on the arm.

"You really do know how to make a girl feel like a third wheel Ebisawa-san!" she chastised, making him and Sakura laugh.

"I thought you _were_ the third wheel," Sakura said, her words full of mirth.

"Ah, but you two don't have to make me feel like it. It's like you already have a love affair going..."

Sakura laughed again. Throughout dinner though, she noticed that Koshiro kept drifting in and out of conversation with them, like there was something on his mind. When Kazumi had gone to the ladies' room and he took to staring down at his plate of braised chicken, a forlorn expression on his face, it was even more noticeable in the absence of lively chatter.

"Is there something wrong?" Sakura asked.

He did not answer right away. He just sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair.

"Today makes a second year since my wife passed away," he told her, eyes glistening.

Sakura felt a sob rising in her throat. It was so depressing when two people spent their lives together and one was yanked away before the other.

"I'm sorry," she said, placing a hand over her heart.

"I would have stayed home today," he said. "But my sons are all out of the country. I didn't want to be alone."

Sakura leaned her head to the side, gazing at him with sympathy.

"My father once told me that when my mother died it was the most excruciating pain he had felt," Sakura told the older man. "But you know what else he told me?" she asked, her voice soft and secretive, baiting him to know more.

"Please, do tell," said Koshiro, his brown eyes staring at her intently.

"He said he considers himself lucky, to have loved someone so much and to have been so loved in return, that it hurt that much to lose her."

After a short silence, he nodded.

"It is a wonderful experience, love," he said, a distant gleam in his eyes. "We men like to believe we are strong and formidable. We don't need anything or anyone, especially not something as sentimental as love. But there's always that one woman who comes into our lives and changes it forever. Whether we keep her or not is a whole other tale. But one thing is certain. Once we've known that love, we can never forget it or let it go. We can pretend, put in the back of our minds for weeks, months, but it surfaces. Always. It reminds us that without a good woman to share it with, all that we have amounts to nothing. _Means_ absolutely nothing."

"That's flattering," said Sakura, cheeks warming hearing Koshiro's passionate words.

"It's true," he said. "We have instincts to provide for and protect that which we love. When we do so, it's very fulfilling. It makes us feel like real men. But young men today do not understand. My sons don't understand. Their work is their love."

He breathed out heavily.

"Of course, if you have sons, that's a legacy. And all that you have becomes theirs and so on for generations. It takes the sting out of loss." He reached over and patted Sakura's hand gently. "I apologize for my ramblings. Let's enjoy the evening without anymore sad talk."

Sakura gave him a winning smile.

"Whatever makes you happy, Koshiro-san."

Kazumi came back to the table and throughout the evening they kept up bright, cheery attitudes for Koshiro. It was easy dining with him. Like in the office with Matsushita, it was like talking to a friend and he had a lot to talk about, having accumulated much wisdom throughout the years.

"I hope they're always as nice as him," Sakura told Kazumi at the end of the night.

"The first one is usually the best," said Kazumi, as she slipped into their waiting car. "Don't get your hopes up."

Even so, Sakura felt that as long as she was positive others would be too. She needed to believe that things would go well for her in this job and she needed to believe she really was helping people like she did earlier by taking Koshiro's mind off his despair. She was not just entertaining. She was bringing happiness to people who needed some in their lives. She sighed as she slid down in the car seat. This job. It had meaning.

Everything will surely be alright.

* * *

A/N

Hey Tomodachi! While working on outlines for two other stories, I ended up watching a marathon of the most SCANDALous show on television right now. And really, just like that, this story burst out of my head and I wrote it down. Of course CCS characters are different from the one on Scandal but I think I can still keep them in check. Note: there are no politics in this story but yes, adultery will be heavy. You have been warned. Oh and another inspiration was the movie Unfaithful. Sadly there would be no magic either so no cards, Yue and talking Kero-chan.

Anyway, I'm updating this A/note as I now have a solid plot in mind and I know why the characters do the things they do and as you can see I was able to come up with a new summary for the fic. Also the fic seems to get 'lost' from time to time and you can't read it. That's not me. It's ff net. Apologies.

Former, distinguished readers and reviewers, welcome back. New readers and reviewers, nice to have you here. If you want to know, the name for the story came from lyrics in the song Linger by The Cranberries. The song kind of captures the essence of the story - for me anyway.

Our beloved gaki appears next chapter though you may not love him that much. No huge OOCs. Trying to keep them true to character. Read and Review. Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^


	2. A Real Prince Charming

**Chapter Two**

**A Real Prince Charming...**

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

Sakura sat on the small, cream sofa in her living room, massaging the soreness out of her feet. She had been out with one of her now regular clients last night - an artist named Yamada Shoji. He was young and talented but somewhat socially inept. She did not mind though. They got along pretty well and she was always ready to fill the awkward gaps of silence. It was one of the reasons he took her on dates. He did not like the strange stares he got whenever he was out on his own and he needed a buffer of sorts for when he could not think of something to say - or when he was being a bit snobbish about his work which turned people off.

As far as Sakura knew, she had no appointments today so she was looking forward to curling up on her couch with a good movie and some hot chocolate. She tingled just thinking about it. She would have preferred to go out with friends somewhere but she had lost contact with many of her high school classmates as most people did when they left school. Making new friends when she had gotten to Tokyo had not been easy and now that she was working at the Hikaru House, she was too tired during the day to put in the effort. Besides, she was getting to know some of the other courtesans and sometimes - like she had with Kazumi - she went on dates with them as well.

She got up to go make her hot chocolate when her cell phone rang. She picked it off the coffee table.

"Moshi Moshi," she answered.

"Sakura," came Naoko's voice, pleasant and professional. "Hope you're well. I'm calling to let you know you have a group date this evening."

Sakura put the kettle to boil and flexed her toes behind her, feeling the tenderness extend to her heels.

"What time?"

"Tonight at eight-thirty."

"Okay."

She would still have time to curl up on her couch.

"I'll send a car over for you at seven," said Naoko. "I'm anticipating some traffic later. Oh and you should know that it's a dinner date with your clients' business clients."

"Okay," said Sakura, already heading to her closet to find something appropriate.

It was shocking how easy it had been to adapt to going on dates almost everyday. Being a little lonely in Tokyo, they actually gave her an opportunity to socialize and get out of her own head for a while. Her tiredness began ebbing away at the thought of what restaurant she was going to be taken to that evening and pure excitement took its place.

Sakamoto Ayame always had the most fun.

That evening, Sakura found herself standing in the waiting area of a three-star Japanese restaurant with two other courtesans she had met previously. She did a quick inspection of her look in front of a round mirror hanging above one of the sofas. Her makeup was light and tasteful as she had been taught to apply it. Stepping back to see better, she twisted and turned. Her black mini dress hugged her figure and the subtle snake-print balanced out the conservative long, fitted sleeves. Sakura moved aside to give another courtesan a chance and the girl took her spot with a knowing smile.

From where she stood, Sakura could see men and women coming up to the reception desk, done up with refined restraint. Farther off, there were many more patrons eating in the magnificent, sparkling ballroom, chatting without a care in the world. The different scents of sweet and spicy perfumes and the delicious aromas of flowers and food tangled around Sakura and she breathed it in greedily.

What was it like to be born into such opulence? Such glitz and glamour that it made your head spin?

"You three lovely ladies must be my guests," said a young, dark-haired man as he approached them. He wore a Western-styled suit, frameless round glasses and a distinguished smile. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Hiiragizawa Eriol."

One by one, Sakura and the girls introduced themselves and he kissed the back of each of their hands in turn. It was like he was some English prince and they were princesses visiting from another land. When his cool lips touched Sakura's skin, a flush ran all the way up her hand to her cheeks and steam flew out her ears. He held onto her hand as he gazed at her.

"And how are you this evening?"

"Fine, thank you," said Sakura, her throat suddenly constricted.

Eriol glanced back at the other two courtesans, then back at her, deciding on something in his mind. Slowly, he released her hand as his smile widened to show a perfect row of teeth. Sakura had the startling impression of the Cheshire cat she had read about once in that children's book, Alice in Wonderland. Was this man, charming as he was, as nice as he seemed?

He gave a bow to them all.

"I apologize. I was momentarily rendered speechless by the presence of so much overwhelming beauty," he said, captivating her once more. "Please, follow me."

He led them down a wide hallway, its walls decorated with a mural of a thriving Japanese garden. White, sparse clouds, pine trees, cherry blossoms petals and koi fishes in a pond burst to life with such shocking quality that Sakura felt somewhat off-balanced as she moved along the two walls. Doors punctuated the hallway on either side and Eriol stopped at one on right. He pushed it open and stood aside for them to walk in.

Sakura squinted. The soft purple glow of the recessed lighting was a stark contrast to the hallway. Immediately, her eyes were drawn to the wall of live jellyfish at the back of the dining room. She gasped softly, her eyes wide with wonder and Eriol smiled at her. He gestured before them.

"This way, please."

There were four, onyx-black tables in the room, all surrounded by pristine white chairs. Two young men sat at one of the tables, on the side of the room where the jellyfishes pulsated up and down, their tentacles trailing behind them with dangerous elegance. One of the men - the black haired one - was talking very animatedly to the other who was sipping a drink that could have been whisky or brandy.

"I have returned with our guests," said Eriol as they walked up to the table.

The black-haired one stood and greeted them, still laughing over something he had just said to the other.

"Ladies, this is Yamazaki Takashi," said Eriol sending one of the girls over to him.

He sat the other girl in an empty chair and turned his attention to the other man. This one, brown-haired with a strong profile was sipping his drink like he had not noticed their arrival. Sakura could be slow at times but she was not so slow as to not realize who she was being paired up with. She had secretly hoped it would be the debonair Eriol and she almost pouted when she realised the other courtesan's luck.

"Cousin," Eriol said to the man. "This is your date. Sakam-"

His cousin set his glass down sharply on the table. Sakura winced, sure that he had cracked it and alcohol would be spilling soon. Chin dipped low, he angled his head towards them, eyes narrowed and jaw tight. Sakura took a half step back. She glanced at Eriol but he did not seem fazed at all. In fact, he had the air of a parent watching their child go through an unnecessary tantrum.

Yamazaki was already engrossed in a conversation with his date but his eyes flicked from Eriol's cousin, to Eriol, her, and back to Eriol's cousin again. He parted his lips and his entire demeanour suggested that he was going to say something placating but Eriol picked up where he left off.

"This is Sakamoto Ayame," he said, totally disregarding the cutting gaze being delivered his way. "Sakamoto-san, this is my _favourite_ cousin, Li Syaoran."

Li Syaoran did not so much as blink in her direction. His deep brown eyes and thick eyebrows were quite menacing and Sakura had to wonder where he got the energy from to sustain such a piercing stare. The way his hair fell softly into his eyes and framed his handsome features she was sure he would be even more good-looking if he lost the glare and smiled a little.

Sakura looked over at Eriol again, this time with barely concealed embarrassment. Never before had she had a client react like this. They were usually friendly, sometimes too friendly but Syaoran was dismissive and glacial. Ever the gentleman however, Eriol walked around her and pulled out the seat next to Syaoran. Thanking him, she sat as he pushed the chair in.

Recovering from the shock of his crass behaviour, she turned to Syaoran and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Li-san."

The only thing that told Sakura that he had heard her was the brief pause of his hand on his way to take up his drink. He put the glass to his lips and sipped, staring straight ahead. She watched him. The smoothness of his movements, the refined manner in which his fingertips gripped the glass, his sophisticated bearing and the way his dark, Chinese-styled suit fitted it like a second skin.

Li Syaoran licked his lips and sucked on the bottom, letting it go with a soft smack. He set the near empty glass back down, his fingers still clutching fast to it. A second later, his gaze snapped to her. Sakura's breath caught in her throat. Even though he was looking at her from the corner of his eyes, he still had enough force to lock her body in place.

When he had glared at Eriol she had been afraid, but now that his attention was on her, her pores raised in a not completely unpleasant way. He was used to being in charge, being obeyed, being the only thing that mattered, and it was painfully evident in his arrogant posture. A quick shiver ran through her. What was it with him and these looks? She averted her eyes, cheeks warm with self-consciousness.

Sakura let out a slow stream of breath, her heart racing. She was conscious of every breath she took, of each time her chest rose and fell, and in her peripheral vision she saw Syaoran ignoring her again. She leaned back in relief. Why was she so on edge? It was not like it was the first time she had met someone rude.

She ventured to look up after some time and found Eriol engrossed in conversation with his date just like Yamazaki. In her own little corner with Li Syaoran, she felt like he did not even want her to breathe. She was about to reach for the glass of water on the table, which was clearly hers, when Syaoran stood.

She stiffened, looking up the tall length of him. Was her drinking to wet her parched throat too much movement for him to ignore? Was he going to leave? Such wild thoughts and yet, he was not concerned with her. Not at all.

He was focused on the entrance that Eriol had led her and the other girls through earlier. His business associates had arrived. The three older gentleman must have been in their forties or so but their dates were about her age. Without a doubt, hired arm candy.

Introductions were made thanks to Eriol who seemed to relish that duty with the pride of a poor man cleaning his one good pair of shoes. Sakura was surprised he remembered all the girls' full names and when he said hers, she lit up. Throughout dinner there was little to say as the clients were speaking about their business with egotistical enthusiasm. Once in a while they, and even Eriol and Yamazaki, would say a word or two to their dates but Syaoran was disregarding her like she was but a fly on his windscreen.

Even when she looked at him, her face open to start a conversation with him, willing him to give her a minute of his time, he would simply glance at her with disdain before turning his attention back to his guests. Had she done something to upset him? She ate her plate of food meekly as she tried to figure out if she broke some etiquette rule or something. One look at him had told her he was Chinese. She tried to remember things that they considered offensive.

Eventually, Sakura struck up a conversation with the arm candy who sat opposite her. She had a heart-shaped face, a dimple in one cheek and was quite the talker.

"I just returned from a week-long trip to Italy. It was sublime. I think I'll make another trip there next month. You haven't eaten pasta until you've been to Italy."

"Is it really so good?" asked Sakura, hanging on her every word.

"Oh yes." She leaned forward and touched Sakura's ear. "I adore your earrings."

Sakura too touched the sapphires with her fingertips. The old man Ebisawa Koshiro had given it to her on their last date.

"They were a gift."

The girl nodded.

"Gifts are marvelous, aren't they?"

She held out her wrist, turning it about so Sakura could see her bracelet.

"White gold with diamonds."

"It must have cost a fortune," said Sakura, looking at it in awe.

"To some it is a fortune," said the girl returning to her meal with a smirk. "But I wouldn't know those types, would I?"

She gave a coy shrug before turning her gaze on Syaoran. She sat up straight and was suddenly staring at him with the most sensuous expression Sakura had ever seen. He caught her gaze and did a double-take. A mischievous glimmer was in the woman's eyes and he was not looking away. Was that what he liked? Unbridled, confident, sexiness? Satomi always said play to your strengths and that definitely was not one of Sakura's.

Syaoran's left hand slipped under the table and as he looked down the table at Eriol who was speaking, he gave a good shove. The woman tipped back in her chair as Sakura heard what sounded like flesh hitting stone. She glanced under the table furtively and saw toes slipping into a nude pump. She glanced around. Everyone but her, the woman and Syaoran were aware of all the footsie action taking place.

Despite Syaoran being less than thrilled with her, Sakura felt a rush of indignation. One minute the girl and her were on good terms, the next she was interfering with her date?

"Perhaps the ladies can leave us for a moment," said Syaoran.

Sakura cringed at the way he said ladies - it was bordering on sarcastic. But then she realised something. It was the first thing she had heard Syaoran say all evening. Though she was certain he was in charge, Eriol and Yamazaki were definitely the talkers. And when they had ordered dinner, he had let Yamazaki do that for him.

The businessman who was with Ms. Footsie, frowned.

"Why? Are we discussing something confidential?"

He had a paunch, thinning hair and a very plain, round face. Without the money it was clear his date would not give him the time of day and maybe that was why he did not seem keen on separating himself from her. He had made it and she was his proof. Kazumi had told her, after their date with Koshiro, about these types of men - the show-offs.

"Business bores women," said Syaoran, his Chinese accent peeking through his deep, rich voice. "It's too heavy a topic."

Sakura frowned like the businessman. Was he trying to say they were stupid?

"Let's allow them to escape it for a while," he finished, with a tone of finality.

"I agree," said one of his other guests. "If my wife was here she would be sitting there and silently condemning me to hell within the first five minutes of dinner."

"Would you all like to go into the lounge?" asked Eriol, the one who kept the ball rolling. He signalled to a waiter without waiting for any replies. "Please show these lovely ladies to the lounge."

Sakura stood and glanced down at Syaoran. He still refused to truly acknowledge her. Silently, she followed the line of women to the lounge. It was just as beautiful as the dining area. There was a bar along one wall with a spectacular array of alcoholic beverages to choose from. There were huge floor-to-ceiling glass windows through which you could see the lights of Tokyo traffic and the other towering business buildings and hotels.

Sakura ordered a cocktail at the bar, chatted with the girls from her agency, glad to have a good conversation after an uncomfortable dining experience with her client. An hour flew by in a minute and Sakura went back over to the windows to survey the city. She swayed slightly to the soft pipe music being played as she sipped her second cocktail of the night.

"Hey you."

Sakura turned to find Li Syaoran walking towards her with the intensity of a military lieutenant.

"Li-san," she murmured, stepping back from his gigantic presence.

In the brighter lounge lighting she could see he was more handsome than she had realized. He was the kind of guy who would make girls drool regardless of his attitude. It was not typical in her job as she had been told, to meet someone who was both as young and good-looking as he was with as much money as he probably had. This novelty unnerved her or perhaps it was the fact that even in four inch heels they were not at equal eye-level. Or perhaps it was the single expression of aloofness he owned in its entirety.

"You left your clutch," he said, holding out the gold accessory to her.

Taking it, head tilted in curiosity, she said, "Most men just call it a bag or purse."

Syaoran did the impossible and stared at her with even more venom than he did when they met. A waiter passed and she handed him her drink just to have something to do other than burn under Syaoran's gaze.

"I have a lot of sisters," he told her, glancing out the window.

"Well thank you for bringing it to me," she said, squeezing the bag in her hands.

Syaoran stepped up beside her and gazed out at the streets below. It was a shame to be so finely sculpted as he but have such a rotten temperament. She did not ask to be here. He requested her company. Standing there in silence with him, she wished she still had her cocktail. She needed something to calm her nerves because he was setting each one off like he held their triggers in his hand. Yet, she felt obligated to make the date work. She did not want him saying something bad about her to Satomi.

She drew a deep breath.

"How many sisters do you have Li-san?"

His eyes slid to the side to look at her.

"Quit while you're ahead," he said, before returning his gaze to the scenery outside.

"What?" she asked, not understanding his abrupt words.

"Fakes smiles and feigned interest," he said, voice cool but harbouring a layer of iron underneath. "You can stop now. You already did your part."

"My part?"

"You showed up. You looked presentable. You're probably articulate. But the show is over. Quit pretending."

Sakura's insides turned to cold slush.

"I-I'm sorry. Li-san...I didn't mean to sound - it's just that I'm here for a while longer and I thought-"

"How much do you cost?"

A brutally straightforward question asked in a viciously punitive way. Sakura looked around sheepishly. Where was someone, _anyone_, when she needed them? No one had ever asked her that before. He should know. The unexpected question, one she never discussed with clients made her feel low for the first time since she had started dating them.

"I…"

Syaoran turned to face her.

"You don't even know?" he asked, tone slightly mocking.

"Twelve hundred."

Syaoran raised an eyebrow.

"US?"

"Hai."

"A night?"

"An hour."

His eyes grew round for a split-second but then narrowed dangerously. His gaze hit Eriol from across the room so hard the man spun around like he had been stung in the back. Seeing it was Syaoran looking at him, he gave a huge grin and held up the drink in his hand. A silent, "cheers." Syaoran's jaw muscles flexed.

Sakura had taken his divided attention to regain her composure.

"You think its too much?" she asked bravely.

"It depends," said Syaoran, turning his gaze back to her. "What do I get for all that money?"

"Companionship."

"You're a very expensive friend."

She swallowed the lump rising up her throat.

"Well... I can go anywhere with you and I will never make you look bad because I know how to carry myself in a range of situations. When you want to see me I'm there and when you don't I will go away. I don't want a romantic relationship with you. So you'll never have to worry about me ever wanting something beyond what you're willing to give."

Syaoran stared and Sakura was proud that she was able to hold his gaze. Though, she really had just given him her version of the Hikaru House Mission Statement.

"Your madam taught you well," said Syaoran, his features darkening. "But I know exactly what you are. I used to play hide and seek with my father's favourite mistress. "

"I'm not a mistress. I'm a -"

"Courtesan, oiran, geisha, mistress, whore. What's the difference?" Syaoran loomed over her, like the shadow of an eagle covering its prey. "You can dress it up however you like. You are what you are. All women like you have a price for which you'd get on your backs. And men like me have deep pockets."

Sakura's lips trembled. Why was he being so mean? Her legs were shaking in her heels and her head started feeling light. People never spoke to her like this. Like she was something rather than someone.

"Tell me. What's yours?" he asked.

"Mine?" she murmured.

Syaoran leaned forward, brown eyes drilling into hers.

"Your price."

"Ano..."

"You're unsure?" prodded Syaoran. "Or is that service included in the twelve hundred?"

Sakura blinked back tears, her face hot with shame.

"It's not included," she whispered.

"Speak up. I can't hear you."

She cleared her throat.

"I said, it's not included." Her nails sank into her clutch. "I don't do that."

"And pigeons don't fly." Syaoran was eyeing her with disgust. "What's next? You're not a day over nineteen?"

Silence.

"I'm not lying, Li-san," was all Sakura could manage to say. "I don't do that."

"You are either in perfect denial," he said. "Or you truly believe this reluctant routine is working for you. Stop playing games. Tell me what I can do with you."

The walls were closing in on Sakura and the air must have thinned because each breath was becoming more laborious than the last. She was not a piece of meat to be flipped over, prodded and poked anyhow he liked. But she could not tell him that because he was just too fast with his insults.

"It's like pulling teeth," he said, half to himself, eyes hard with contempt. "Let me ask in simple terms you can understand. Do I finish in your mouth, between your legs, or… someplace more suitable for your profession?"

Sakura's face crumbled. The dam on her tears broke and she took two steps back before turning and fleeing the lounge. She passed the dining room and ran back into the hallway with the garden mural. Hand over her mouth, she fell forward against a wall and cried.

Why did he have to say those things? She was not that kind of girl. She would never sleep with someone for money. Those eyes of his looked at her like she was filth and worse, they made her feel that way too.

A waiter came out one of the hallway doors and she quickly turned her back on him, her breaths coming out shaky. As he passed however, she felt a tap on her arm. Wiping her eyes, she looked up and found him with a napkin in hand. Grateful, she took it.

"Where are the washrooms?" she asked, hiccuping.

He told her and she made her way back into the dining room and turned into a hall where the washrooms were located. She put her clutch on the counter by the pipe and ripped tissues from the dispenser to dab at her eyes, willing herself to breathe evenly. She touched up her makeup with quivering hands, all the while wondering why Syaoran hated her on sight. He had practically said that she did everything right so why was he being so cruel?

Satisfied with her appearance, she still waited fifteen minutes for her red eyes to return to normal before she went back to the lounge where all the men and their dates were still mingling. Sakura was not sure if she should return to Li Syaoran or not but she was robbed of the decision when she saw him in an armchair, off alone in a corner, cell phone pressed to his ear. He was occupied and that was entirely fine with her.

"Sakamoto-san," called Eriol, walking up to her at the bar when the evening came to a close. He took hold of her hand. "Thank you for your company. Syaoran enjoyed it."

Was he joking? Yamazaki, who had come over to refill his drink must have thought the same thing because his face screwed up in skepticism.

"Syaoran-kun doesn't speak much to people he doesn't know well," he said, almost like an apology. "But you made it."

Eriol smiled.

"So she did." Raising her hand to his lips, for one of his enchanting kisses, he said "It truly was a pleasure, Sakamoto-san."

He was a little eccentric, this man in the way he spoke and behaved, but he sure knew how to treat a lady.

"The hour is late. May I take you over to Syaoran so you can let him know you're taking your leave?"

"Hai," said Sakura, even though her inner self was holding tight to the bar's counter top, kicking and screaming.

Striding up to Syaoran as he finished his call, Eriol nodded to her.

Sakura said in one breath, "Goodnight, Li-san. I found the evening enjoyable and I hope you did too."

He stared at Eriol blankly. Not a nod, not one word escaped him. Determined to be the more mannerly one, Sakura bowed low even though he was not looking at her.

"Care to join Yamazaki and I?" asked Eriol. "We're escorting the ladies to their car."

Syaoran made a sound of derision in his throat, face coming to semi-life with scorn.

"I'll pass."

"Must you be a spoilsport, dear cousin?"

"Eriol. Go. _Away_."

"He pretends he doesn't love me," said Eriol to Sakura. "But he does. Very much. Don't you cousin? You wouldn't have half as much fun if I wasn't around."

Syaoran went silent again. Eriol, smiling like his cousin had professed his undying love, rest a hand lightly on the back of Sakura's waist.

"Shall we?"

As they left she could not help but twist her neck slightly to see what his cousin was up to. Li Syaoran was staring out the window, moonlight bathing his features, chin settled nonchalantly against his knuckles. He was like a marble sculpture. The first word that came to Sakura's mind? Cold. The second? Empty.

* * *

A/N

More S+S next chapter! And thank you anonymous reviewers *ding* and *cee*. I think I already thanked the signed reviews but if I missed you, thank you to you too. Read and Review. Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^


	3. The Second Time's Never the Charm

**Chapter Three**

**The Second Time's Never the Charm**

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

After the date with Li Syaoran, Sakura was feeling so low, she decided to go home on her days off, visit her father and return to the city refreshed. She had been dropped to the train station by one of the agency's off-duty chauffeurs and here she was now, walking along the familiar streets of Tomoeda, cherry blossoms fluttering down from the treetops and kissing her cheeks.

It was the good old days again.

The yellow house that was her childhood home came into view and she ran the last steps to the gate. Joy filled her as she saw her father sweeping up leaves in the small yard.

She slid her backpack from her shoulders.

"Otou-san!"

Kinomoto Fujitaka rest the broom against the front wall and opened the iron-wrought gate. Just as he opened his arms, she ran to him and he hugged her tightly.

"Sakura-san."

"I missed you Otou-san," she said into his chest.

"And I've missed you."

He held her back by her shoulders and looked her over, smiling serenely. It was the one thing she needed to feel better after a long day or in this case, week - her sweet, caring Otou-san.

"What are you doing home at this time on a Monday?" she asked.

"My schedule at the university's changed," he told her. "I have a long weekend now."

"I'm sure you're still doing work in the basement."

Fujitaka chuckled.

"You know me well."

She pouted.

"You should go on vacation. You're always working."

"Because I love what I do," said Fujitaka. "Let's go inside."

In the kitchen, he poured her a glass of lemonade and they sat at the small dining table as she soaked in the familiar sights and sounds and scents of her home. Kero, the large golden retriever of the family came up to her and licked her fingers. His ears peeled back and he got a dazed expression on his face when she patted his head. Her mother beamed at her from a framed picture on the table and as always, Sakura smiled back.

"You're quiet," remarked Fujitaka.

Sakura pulled her hand away from Kero's ears and the retriever rest his chin on her lap and closed its eyes.

"I was thinking, do you ever get lonely now that I've moved out?"

Fujitaka glanced at the picture of her mother.

"Not as much as you think. I work a lot as you said. Don't waste time worrying about me. Live your life to its fullest." As an afterthought, he added, "Touya-san and Yukito-san do come over from time to time."

Sakura felt a warm glow in her cheeks. No matter how much time had passed, any mention of her childhood crush Yukito - her brother's best friend - did that to her.

"Would you like to help me make dinner?" asked Fujitaka. "We can make a feast of our best dishes."

Though they both knew it would not be the same without candid Touya and the ravenous Yukito, she nodded.

"Let's do it!"

That night, as they sat together on the living room couch, bellies stuffed, with Kero eating a healthy portion of leftovers in his dog bowl, Fujitaka asked, "Are you still working as a babysitter?"

"Yes, Otou-san," she answered, unable to look into his eyes for fear of him being able to see the lies written in her face. To explain her new working hours and salary she had told him she was a babysitter for an affluent family and the lie never got easier to tell.

"Is it going well?"

"Hai, but can we not talk about that now that I'm home," she whined like she always did when someone had asked her about school when she was on summer vacation.

Fujitaka chuckled.

"You showed up so unexpectedly I thought something bad had happened."

She had to admire his self-control to not mention those thoughts as soon as she was in the house, especially knowing that he was concerned about her.

"Nothing bad happened," she reassured him. "Well, there was a guest who seemed to look down at my career choice. I felt a bit demeaned."

"That has happened to me as well," said Fujitaka.

Sakura gasped.

"But you're a distinguished lecturer! You have two Ph.D's. You're always being invited to speak at conferences!"

"Over the years, I've passed up many career opportunities because I liked teaching my students. Archaeology can seem very boring but I've found ways to make it fascinating to my students. Even today, I have students who've taken my classes only as electives, tell me I made a difference in how they see the world. People whose only aspirations involve titles and money find it difficult to see the value in that."

Sakura leaned forward on her knees and cupped her cheeks in her palms. Her father was so inspiring. He probably was the closest thing to a perfect man she would ever know.

"What did you do to stop feeling bad for your choices?" she asked him.

"I never felt bad. I knew what was in my heart. I understood why I did what I did. That's all that matters. Hold your head high. You are Nadeshiko-san's daughter and she never cared about what negative people thought. Except perhaps, just the one."

"You're not negative," said Sakura.

"Children don't seem to realise that there was a time their parents were young and dumb too."

She giggled.

"I can't picture that."

Fujitaka adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"What you can do," he said, with a small smile. "Is come up with one or two things to say when other people try to degrade you. Nothing distasteful, of course. Just something to validate or reinforce your stance. Do you understand?"

"Hai. I understand. Arigatou, Otou-san."

"I'm proud of you," said Fujitaka, resting a hand on her back. "I don't think there's anything you can do to not make me proud. When you were younger I didn't think I could raise a girl child on my own. But you turned into such a bright, happy young lady. It makes me feel fulfilled."

Sakura grinned.

"All you need now is a husband."

She flushed.

"_Otou-san_!"

"I'm sure you'll have no problem."

"Otou-san, _please_!" she said, embarrassed.

She tried to get away but he caught her hand, a soft expression on his face.

"Don't you want to get married, Sakura-san?" he asked. "You just turned twenty-four. I would think it's something you would be considering."

She squinted down at the floor.

"Hoe... I _have_ thought about it."

"And what do you think? Should I be scouting for an upstanding young man, worthy of my daughter?"

Putting her hand over face she giggled, blushing hard.

"I know some wholesome young men with bright futures ahead of them," he continued. "I could set up a few dates. If you want."

Sakura thought she would die of mortification at any moment. She looked at him through the gaps in her fingers and saw the face of an anxious, uncertain father. Was he just as embarrassed as her to be having this conversation? It must be hard trying to be both mother and father. He had basically said as much minutes ago.

She lowered her hand, determined to act like an adult since he wanted to use his precious time for her sake.

"If you find someone, I'll go out with him Otou-san."

"I'm not pressuring you?"

"No," said Sakura.

"Dating can be stressful," he said. "I'm not trying to marry you off to check it off a list. I want you to have good experiences. Not fall for someone whose intentions are not good. Or someone who doesn't know how to treat women."

"I know what you mean Otou-san. And I really don't mind you looking out for me."

The idea of finding the person to spend the rest of her life with was an exciting one. Knowing that her father was taking charge of it made her feel like she would get the best possible choice. It was one less thing to worry about. And she would at least skip the awkward stage of bringing home someone for him and her brother to vet.

She hugged him.

"I can't wait. Oh, and if he looks like Yukito-kun, that would be the best."

Fujitaka laughed.

"I'll call Touya-san and see if he and Yukito-san can come over tomorrow. You can even make your world-famous cupcakes for us."

"They're not world-famous Otou-san," she said. "Only you and Yukito-kun ever say so."

"Touya-san thinks so as well but he's too jealous of your talent to admit it."

Sakura bit back a smile. Her brother was sickeningly good at almost everything he did but baking was not his strong point. She put her game face on. She would make her cupcakes just to make him feel like the inadequate vermin he was!

* * *

Wednesday morning, Sakura went back to Tokyo with a pep in her step. In the following weeks, she entertained new clients, old clients and favourite clients - one of which was an impressionist called Yamada Shoji and the other was the old man Ebisawa Koshiro. She had grown to like him a lot and she was sure he saw her like the grand-daughter he never had more than anything else.

"I have three sons," he had told her on their last date. "And only one is married. None have any children yet. The youngest doesn't seem capable of finding himself a woman. Do they think I'll live forever?"

"I'm sure you'll get grandchildren soon," she had said to him.

He had balked at her optimism but went on to select names he thought would be good for his future grandchildren.

Yes. Life was going great for Sakura. She had even gone back to Tomoeda once to go on a date with a newly graduated student from her father's university. They had a few things in common and he was smart and a good listener. She considered it a good effort on her father's part though she did not think he was the one.

Yes. Sakura was flying with the birds until she was grounded by a call from Naoko asking her to come to the Hikaru House's office. The girl sounded hassled and when Sakura arrived she was told why.

"Hiiragizawa Eriol called."

Sakura's insides twisted around each other in an instant.

_Oh please, no_.

"He wants girls to accompany him to a nightclub on Friday. And he insists that you come as Li Syaoran's date again."

Sakura's shoulders slumped.

"He hinted that if you didn't go, he'd seek another agency for the girls. I remember you said Li-san was awful but do you think you can dig deep for some energy and do it? If I lose them as clients, third cousin or not, Satomi will have my head."

It was not really a question but a strong, desperate plea. Sakura did not want to get Naoko in trouble and so, she nodded numbly.

"Perfect!" exclaimed Naoko. "I'll let him know. And I definitely owe you lunch."

* * *

Sakura threw herself on her bed, bouncing lightly. What evil had she done to deserve the punishment of Li Syaoran? She hugged her pillow close to her chest, playing over his words in her mind - words that had plagued her for weeks even though she pretended she had forgotten them. How someone could be so insensitive to a person, one who was there to ensure they had a good time, she could not understand.

As to be expected, Friday night came far too quickly for her liking but she treated her date the way one would treat the reading of a court verdict - with determined stoicism. She slipped on a white, figure-hugging dress with a plunging back. It was new and it made her feel pretty. And she would need the extra boost in confidence tonight, she was sure.

She brushed on a few extra coats of mascara and passed her smallest curling iron through her hair one last time, securing the soft, wavy curls she had created. While she fussed with her appearance, she frowned. Why did she even care? It was not like Li Syaoran would appreciate her efforts anyway. And if she looked bad, he would have material for his insults which should make him ecstatic. She had already steeled herself against the word whore and 'slut' just in case he decided to use that one instead.

"Done," she said to her mirror, pitying the girl that stood there.

Grabbing her black clutch she was out the door and in one of the agency's sedans in minutes. She fiddled with a silver ring on her forefinger all the way to the club, barely registering when the car was filled with two other girls. When they arrived, Eriol emerged from inside the nightclub.

"Sakamoto-san, I'm very pleased you could make it," he said, leading her and the others past the two bouncers and the long line at the entrance.

As they entered the establishment - and that was what it was; not a joint or a spot, but an _establishment_ \- Sakura's senses were assaulted with a blast of j-pop music, suffocating darkness punctuated by flashes of laser lights and the bee-like hum of hundreds of voices. She edged closer to Eriol as he ushered them through the throng of animated bodies, their electrifying energy thick in the atmosphere. They went into an elevator and all sound stopped for a moment as the metal box soared upwards. It pinged open and it was sensory overload all over again. Sakura was amazed the police had not raided the establishment yet. They usually frowned on dancing at nightclubs which kept the fun-level to a minimum.

Eriol walked them down a short passageway and past two more bouncers guarding a door. Sakura's eyes were adjusting to the dimness around her but they did not need to anymore. The room they were in was quite bright. And white. The floor was black but the walls were white, the ceiling was white and suddenly she felt self-conscious that she was wearing... white. She glanced at her fellow courtesans, dressed almost identically. No one sent _her_ the 'wear black' memo.

There were circles of neon-blue chairs and sofas all over the room, a long bar, an area naturally designated as the dance floor and a glass wall from where you could see the party going on downstairs. That was not to say there was no party here. It was just as vibrant as the one below. Only the people in the room were partying more extravagantly, more expensively and more sinfully. Her eyes bulged out of her skull when she caught sight of a topless girl dancing in the middle of one of the circles. All she wore was a transparent underwear and men were slipping bills into it and smacking her on the butt lightly, laughing. Sakura gawked at Eriol when she realized he was leading them over there and her blood ran cold when she saw that Li Syaoran was one of the men sitting in the circle.

The dancer tried to straddle him but he raised his hand, wordlessly keeping her back. Without missing a beat, she turned away to another guy and straddled him instead, allowing him to caress her round bottom which earned him a cheer from some of the guys.

"Syaoran," said Eriol, drawing his cousin's attention to them. "You must remember, Sakamoto-san."

"You can call me Ayame," murmured Sakura, while silently wishing she could disappear from Syaoran's piercing, judgemental eyes.

"_Ayame-san_," Eriol breathed, smiling wide. "Then you may call me Eriol. Excuse me while I go call Yamakazi to find out why he isn't here to partake in my boys' night out. You kids enjoy yourselves."

He nodded to Syaoran and then to Sakura's horror, he took the two other girls and left her there with his cousin! No warning. No advice on how to survive in this lion's den.

"We meet again, Li-san," she said cheerily, and she sat down next to him, determinedly ignoring the naked - or as good as naked - dancer opposite them.

Of course, he did not answer. He probably thought he was too good to associate with courtesans. But Sakura could not understand how he could be so intrigued with the stripper slash dancer and yet have a problem with her. Since she had sat down he had not taken his gaze off the girl even for a second. The dancer was being grabbed and fondled in so many places, Sakura felt ashamed for her, though the girl was not objecting to the invasiveness of the guys.

The awkwardness of the entire situation - especially since she was the only female in a group of men high on testosterone - became too much for Sakura. When some guys started looking in her direction, she knew that she had to get away, if only for a little while. She highly doubted Syaoran would be a gentleman and defend _her_ honour.

"Please excuse me Li-san," she said, leaning towards him so he could hear her above the roaring music. "I'll be in the ladies' room."

A slight pulsing of his jaw suggested he might have heard her. It was enough however, and she was up in a blink. A few directions later and she was safely tucked away in the mosaic-tiled washroom. It was so clean she had no desire to leave quickly and for a while she remained there, striking up little conversations with girls who came in and helping them to take pictures with their friends. What was it with taking pictures in building washrooms, she wondered, as she snapped a picture of a twin.

The time ultimately came when she decided she should return to the party, seeing as she was not being paid to hide. She washed her hands and exited her much needed haven. She cut through the dance floor to avoid walking all the way around when she felt a light tug on her wrist. She spun around to find a guy, who seemed friendly enough, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Just wanted to know if you'd like to dance," he shouted over the music with a grin.

Almost everyone was dancing now it seemed. He was so patient, waiting hopefully for her reply, that Sakura gave in.

"One dance?"

"One dance," assured the guy, already moving towards to her.

Sakura had experienced bouts of feverish dancing behind the closed door of her bedroom, and she considered herself a fairly good dancer but she had never done anything so public. She almost changed her mind but she remembered that tonight she was Sakamoto Ayame - a cool, assertive woman who did things Kinomoto Sakura would only dream of. She raised her hands above her head and started rolling her hips from side to side like a girl next to her was doing. She may even have even done a few moves she had picked up from the dancer earlier though she might die before willingly admitting that one.

"Nice," drawled the guy into her ear.

Flushing, encouraged, Sakura turned her back to him. He grabbed her hips and pulled her into him. On another day she would have pushed him away but the music had infected all the blood rushing through her body and it made her bold. It was liberating dancing there with him, a complete stranger, who was decent despite the fact that they were dancing so close, with the most suggestive body language she had ever spoken. One dance turned into two and two into three, and then she lost count. But seriously, how could you keep count when the DJ was constantly swapping out one song for another and melding them together?

Sakura spotted one of the courtesans she came with walking across the dance floor and that brought her back to the moment and the reason she was in the club at all. She did not want to get all sweaty anyway, and she could already feel a cool layer of perspiration on her skin despite the chilly air that filled the room. She told her dancing partner goodbye and he reluctantly let her go, winking at her as she left, making her giggle.

She had barely taken ten giddy steps when the sight of Syaoran, striding towards her, stopped her in her tracks. He raised his hand as he neared her and pressed her clutch into her hands. Sakura looked down at the item, thinking it was becoming a habit of hers to leave it with him.

"Thank y-"

She whipped around and gawked at his back as he headed to the washrooms. He had not even paused to accept her gratitude! Sighing, she briefly debated with herself before the masochist in her decided to go after him. He had been kind enough to bring her things to her, and one good act did deserve another...usually.

So Sakura stood outside the male washroom, in the dimly lit hallway and waited for him. It did not take long before he pushed open the door. He froze when they came face to face. She shifted uneasily, recognizing that she must seem really creepy standing there, waiting for him without his knowledge.

A guy was behind Syaoran, so he stepped forward to let him pass, forcing her back against a wall. Sakura studied his perfectly sculpted profile as he watched the guy drifting drunkenly from the hallway. The ends of his hair around his face held flecks of water and there was a slight twitch of his lips and a shake of the head when the guy stumbled over his feet. For a moment, in his glee, Li Syaoran was like everyone else. A sudden, irrational desire to reach out and draw her fingertips down the cheek of this seemingly untouchable man swept over her. But no. She would not do that. Everything about him, from his scowls to his crass words, warned her not to. He did not even let the dancer straddle him and he seemed more inclined to that girl than he was to her.

Alone in the hallway at last, Syaoran turned to her, a mocking gleam in his eyes.

"Do you offer washroom concierge service too, _courtesan_?"

"No," said Sakura, already preparing herself for the worst. "I just thought I'd wait for you and we could go back to our seats together. That's all."

"You didn't seem too concerned with getting back to your seat five minutes ago."

Her stomach sank. Had he seen her dancing with another man on his time?

"T-that guy asked me to dance," she explained. "I thought it'd be impolite to refuse."

"Thinking doesn't seem to be your area of expertise."

Sakura gave a shaky smile.

"My high school math teacher would agree with you."

Syaoran's eyebrow raised at the unexpected self-deprecation. She averted her eyes and shrugged, hoping that would be the end to his taunts. Heaven must be on her side tonight because there was no retort, mean or otherwise. He just stood there, trapping her between the wall and his sturdy frame. She nervously ran the tip of her tongue across her lips and to her amazement, Syaoran mirrored the motion, his eyes fixed on her mouth.

Suddenly, her heart was a fluttering mess. She could not help it. He may be rude and uncouth but Syaoran was an attractive man and he was staring down at her with a deep, all-consuming look that could make a nun blush. And it was like she was a ten year old again, in the presence of her crush Yukito. Her face heated up, her breaths grew shallow and she could feel a warm tingle rising up her spine. It was amazing what happened when Syaoran kept his mouth shut. And yet, she had to hear him speak to remind herself that he was nothing like Yukito.

"Li-san?" she called, breathlessly.

He was close. No one was around. If he wanted to, he could do almost anything with her there. That thought should have scared her but all Sakura felt was a cautious kind of curiosity. How would it feel to be held by him? Feel his body against hers? Would he put as much passion into it as he did whenever he glared at her? Why was she thinking these things? This was Li Syaoran. He was a bully. Right? Right. It was unnerving that not a single part of him was touching her and yet, she could _feel_ him all over her skin.

"Maybe we should..." She struggled to find the words. For some reason, Syaoran nodded like he was agreeing to her unfinished suggestion. But how could he know what it was? She shuddered. "Maybe we should... get back?"

The words hung in the air for but a moment, unanswered. Syaoran's head gave a startled jerk. He blinked like he had just snapped out of a daydream. Whatever force that had been holding Sakura's body in place broke, and she sagged against the wall. Her heart beats pounded in time to the wild music around them as she wondered what he had just _done_ to her. She felt winded and excited all at the same time.

She ventured a peek at Syaoran from under the cover of her bangs. He was glaring, biting down on his molars so hard she could see the muscles in his jaw flexing. He took two controlled steps back and ran a hand through his hair, casting a withering look at her. Before she could find out what she had unknowingly done to anger him this time, he was heading down the hallway, back towards the dancefloor.

Unconsciously tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, Sakura collected herself from the glare he had sent her and followed him back to their seats. She made sure to keep several feet behind him.

To her dismay, a second dancer had joined the first. The girls were gyrating against each other and when Syaoran sat down, the new dancer crawled towards him and gave a solo show, twisting her body and flipping her hair. Sakura pursed her lips. This really was a boys' night out indeed.

A tall hostess came over to collect empty glasses.

"Anything for you and your date?" she asked Syaoran, balancing the wares on her tray.

He leered at Sakura but gestured for her to order, before looking back down at the girl feeling herself up between his knees. Sakura noted he was observing his show with as much concentration as he had used when they were alone only moments ago in the hallway. That bothered her somewhat but she pushed the thought from her mind to answer the hostess.

"I'll have the house sake cocktail, please."

"Great choice. Coming right up!"

Syaoran leaned back on the sofa and Sakura made up her mind to take the opportunity to speak to him since he was acknowledging that she existed. So ignoring the fact that the dancer was unfastening her bra with deadly slowness, she leaned over to him.

"Li-san, forgive me if I'm being rude but why did you invite me here if you have other women to... entertain you?"

"You're Eriol's guest. Not mine."

"Oh..."

His gaze on the dancer intensified as her bra came off and he undid the first two buttons of his black shirt revealing a sliver of smooth chest. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and flexed his fingers. Was the girl finally affecting him? Sakura gave a silent huff. Was that what she had to do for him to be pleasant? Strip?

"So... you _don't_ want my company?" she asked.

"Obviously not."

Sakura chewed on her bottom lip, digesting that.

"Does Hiiragizawa-san know this? I mean, he wanted me to come just for you."

"He likes to irritate me," Syaoran told her, through clenched teeth. "That's the only reason you're here."

The hostess brought Sakura her drink and she quickly took a sip. It was sickeningly sweet compared to the sour atmosphere between her and Syaoran. She knew it was her job to endure a negative disposition to a point but it was difficult not to take the things he was saying personally.

"Have I offended you somehow Li-san?"

"That too is obvious," he replied, as the dancer rocked to her feet, her full, naked breasts swinging gently as she rose.

She was working her hips like a belly dancer and like the first girl, attempted to straddle Syaoran but he held up a hand sharply and shook his head.

"It's not obvious to me," said Sakura, her cheeks growing hot from the scene she almost witnessed. "Please tell me, what have I done?"

She drank half of her cocktail in silence, waiting for him to answer but he never did. She eventually grew tired of watching him and the dancer watch each other, so she looked away. Yet all that changed was that she was now watching the other dancer grinding against the thigh of one of the guys opposite. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Syaoran pull his wallet from his back pocket and hand over two 10 000 yen notes to the dancer who accepted it with a huge grin.

"Sure you don't want a lap dance?" she asked. "I won't mind if you get a little touchy-feely."

She peered down her nose at Sakura.

"But looks like you're getting a much happier ending tonight," she said.

"We haven't agreed on a price yet," said Syaoran. "How much would _you_ pay for her?"

Sakura, who had been taking a long swallow of her drink, choked.

The dancer stood akimbo and cocked her head to the side, looking at Sakura, who was wiping sake from her chin.

"She's cute. Doesn't look like she knows much though. But hey, if you're going all the way, I'd say... fifty thousand yen?"

Syaoran shot a pointed look at Sakura and she could see the amusement in his eyes. The girl basically said she was worth just under five hundred US, way less than the hourly rate Eriol was being charged.

"You can leave now," said Syaoran, and the dancer picked up her bra and walked away with ballerina grace. Maybe she really was a dancer - in the traditional sense of the word.

Syaoran's expression grew pensive as he continued to ogle Sakura at his leisure. In response, she clamped her knees together and wrapped her arms around her body, looking everywhere but at him. When she felt his gaze hit her bare thighs, she rest a hand on the hem of her dress, preventing it from riding up further.

"Demure all of a sudden?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from his words. "Move your hand. For twelve hundred dollars an hour, I should at least be able to look at you."

Obediently, Sakura did as Syaoran said, wondering how he could make her feel so cheap so easily.

"Our resident professional says five hundred dollars is reasonable. What do you say?" he asked.

Sakura straightened her back. She had the perfect, well thought-out answer for him.

"You can buy my time Li-san. But nothing more."

She expected him to scoff, maybe even laugh.

"I'll give you ten thousand dollars to spend a night with me," he told her. "An intimate night, courtesan."

Sakura gasped.

"_No_!"

"Twenty thousand then."

She shook her head. What was wrong with this man? He almost sounded like he was enjoying tormenting and toying with her this way.

"This is inappropriate," she said. "The rules are not to ask for - if you do they won't work with your anym-"

"I don't care about your agency's rules. I won't die if I never see you again. Fifty thousand."

"Li-san."

"One hundred thousand."

Sakura gaped at him. She could practically see yen notes raining from the sky. Would he really pay someone so much to spend one night with him?

"So that's your price?" Syaoran gave her one last once over. "Higher than I expected."

Sakura's eyes burned and the corners of her mouth turned down. She knew he was going to make her cry again. She felt it rising up her chest, felt a burning between her eyes. Li Syaoran had no limits to the insults he threw her way. No matter how considerate she was, he made it a point to belittle her in every way he could think of. But she could not be mean to him like he was to her. It was not in her to be that way at all.

"I'm sorry that I'm here Li-san," she told him, struggling to keep her voice from cracking. "I don't understand why you hate me so. Whatever I did to offend you, _I'm sorry._ I swear you'll never see me again. Even if Hiiragizawa-san calls and begs, I'll refuse to come. Even if I'm at risk to lose my job, I'll refuse to come."

With that, she set down her drink, made sure to gather her clutch and left his presence. She made for the elevator with wobbling legs and a mild thumping in her head. As the doors closed in front of her, a hand slid between them, making them snap apart. For a crazy instant, she thought it was him but it was Eriol. She quickly wiped at her eyes.

"Is something the matter?" he asked.

Sakura shook her head, unwilling to answer.

"Please, let me know," said Eriol.

Sakura's eyes soared to the elevator ceiling and she blew out, calming herself and keeping her tears at bay.

"Your cousin doesn't like me. He's very rude. And cruel. And -" She placed a palm over her forehead. "Please don't do this again. I really tried but maybe you should choose someone else for him next time."

"Syaoran can be a reticent, emotionless bore," said Eriol. "But cruel? Absolutely not."

"I think he hates women."

"That I don't believe. Syaoran's the kind to help an old lady cross the street. He doesn't hate women. I'm sure."

Sakura wiped at her eyes again.

"Then with all due respect Hiiragizawa-san, maybe you don't know him as well as you think you do?"

Eriol extended a hand to her.

"Come. Let's go confront him. We can sort things out."

She recoiled.

"I'm sorry. But there's really nothing to sort. He was quite clear about his feelings. He doesn't want me here."

Eriol's hand fell to his side and he looked genuinely remorseful.

"Is there anything I can do to make things up to you?"

"Can I leave early?"

"Of course you may. Allow me to call you a taxi? Your chauffeur wouldn't be here as yet."

"Thank you."

She closed her eyes in sweet relief, knowing that in the next hour, Li Syaoran would be nothing but a bad memory.

* * *

A/N

Hey Tomodachi. Well this chapter turned out way longer than it was supposed to. I'm so annoyed... I had planned to post on Monday. But I hope you enjoyed it. Part of the next chapter will be in Syaoran's POV. Perhaps he's not as annoyed with Sakura as he wants her to believe. Or maybe he really is a jerk. Hmmm. And that thing about the nightclub and dancing, I did not make that up. It's for real. Read and Review. Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^


	4. An Irritatingly Enchanting Concoction

**Chapter Four**

**An Irritatingly Enchanting Concoction**

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

Oil and watercolour paintings of various techniques and sizes lined the walls, along with vintage photographs and portraits, in the immense, Baroque-styled ballroom. Situated throughout the floor were statues and sculptures, some old, others new, all carved by hand to perfection. In glass cases mounted on pedestals were the smallest, most fragile items of jewellery, blue and white porcelains and crystal vases. Somewhere on the balcony a string orchestra was playing Symphony Number Whatever and the sounds of the strings in the impeccable acoustics of the room were a grater on the ears. Why was it always the same old symphonies _every_ time? Were there no new compositions produced in the last fifty years?

Syaoran stifled yet another yawn rising up his throat. He had been standing for the past twenty minutes, listening to a friend of his mother's. The older gentleman spoke labouriously slow, and after having visited three continents earlier that day, and suffering through jet lag so he could make a brief appearance at this charity dinner/auction, Syaoran considered it an accomplishment that he was still awake. Sadly, he could not stalk off and disrespect the man even though he was severely tempted to given his less than rested mind, not to mention his burgeoning foul mood. Nonetheless, nodding seemed to suggest that he was paying avid attention and so he did just that.

When his mother had asked him to attend this event in her place, he had forgotten he would run into these self-important, talkative types. That was what he got for showing up before dinner started and not bringing a date. All around him a few men and women were trying to make eye contact but he stared at the gentleman determinedly. This was the last conversation he was going to have before the night came to an end. He could talk business for days but sometimes even he needed some respite.

One of the man's business partners came up to him in greeting and Syaoran took the moment to say, "I see a close friend of mine. Excuse me."

It was not a lie. Yamazaki was striding towards him, his usual mischievous grin on his face.

"Where's Miharu?" asked Syaoran.

Whenever they were in the same place, it was rare for Yamazaki and his wife to be seen apart. How they could stand each other's constant presence, he could never understand. The saying was absence made the heart grow fonder. Not perpetual, soul-sucking contact.

"You're still using her maiden name," said Yamazaki. "She's with Daidouji. I saw you dying over here. So I came to your rescue."

"I didn't need saving."

"I'll remember that the next time I try to help your ungrateful ass out," said Yamazaki, and he folded his arms, giving Syaoran an incredulous stare.

"Fine. You saved me. Want do you want? A fucking award?"

"A fucking raise."

Syaoran threw him an amused look.

"All newlyweds in the corporation get a raise. That wasn't enough for you?"

Yamazaki raised an emphatic finger.

"Not for your saviour and best friend. Times are hard if you didn't notice. Which is likely…."

Swiping a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter, Syaoran made to take a long drink before he listened to Yamazaki's financial woes, when he paused, a familiar flash of short, auburn hair catching his attention. The girl turned around and the sight of her bright, million-watt smile set his heart racing as easy as flipping a switch. She bit down on her bottom lip coyly and something tugged hard in his abdomen releasing warm ripples from deep within his core to the very tips of his fingers. His eyes darted to Yamazaki but his friend had not noticed the tremor that had run through his body.

"- didn't know weddings cost so much. Not all of us can write cheques with endless zeros. It left me near bankrupt all those -"

Syaoran nodded as though he was listening to Yamazaki but every fibre of his being was honed in on that damn courtesan girl. He pulled at his collar. What was she doing here after that self-righteous speech about never seeing him again? He took a sip of his champagne, his gaze trailing along her floor-length, blue gown, so different from all the black ones in the ballroom. It was nowhere near as flattering to her round, spankable rear end as the white dress had been, but it skimmed her body tastefully and he had to give it to her: she looked like the perfect lady.

Syaoran's brows knotted. Did he just think she was _spankable_? Angling his head, he took another look. Even through her gown, his male eyes saw her. If his hand crashed down on her behind, would she scream, squeak or beg for more? He took another sip of champagne to hide a lecherous smirk. She looked like a squeaker.

"-_believe_ how much those shrimps cost. Don't let me even get started on the 'gourmet' watermelons-"

She slipped a lock of hair behind her ear and Syaoran ground his teeth together, resisting the urge to smack himself for his thoughts. He had sat with a half naked, big-breasted girl between his legs - and she really did have a nice pair - and yet all he could hear, smell, _see_ was the courtesan. Something was wrong there. Very wrong.

"-and of course now her wedding dress is just collecting dust in the closet, not that we paid for it but-"

Yamazaki walked off still talking about some dusty closet and Syaoran followed, his gaze glued to the courtesan. She looked up at the ceiling and revolved in awe as she stared at it. He glanced up too. Mouldings, chandeliers, a mural... what was so interesting? His gaze slid back down and connected with sparkling green. It was like a giant padlock had clicked in place, its force echoing throughout the ballroom and reverberating in his chest.

He watched the girl's eyes go wide and the rosy hue drain from her cheeks. She stepped back and glanced around wildly before turning her back to him, her shoulders taut. Did she think that if she could not see him, he could not see her?

Yamazaki elbowed him in the side. Gesturing to the courtesan, he said jokingly, "Look at that. Shoji-kun stole your date. The bastard!"

For the first time since Syaoran had laid eyes on the courtesan, he took notice of the man beside her. Yamada Shoji. He was familiar with this friend of Yamazaki's. The man ran his fingers down her arm and she leaned in to whisper in his ears. He tried to keep his face neutral but Syaoran could see the effect she was having on him; he could remember how it had felt to have those plump lips close to his ear, her breath hot on his neck, teasing him.

"He can keep her," he told Yamazaki. "And good riddance."

"Aww. Give the girl a break. She's just trying to make a living."

"Is that what they're calling it now?" asked Syaoran with contempt.

Yamazaki cast another look over at the couple.

"She's harmless."

"They always seem that way," Syaoran said, even though he agreed with Yamazaki's assessment.

The courtesan was indeed unlike the usual suspects. She was not as refined nor as slick as a typical escort from the infamous Hikaru House. It was odd that the equally infamous Matsushita would send her to clients. She just did not seem like the type who slept with men for money. Yet, despite what the stripper had said about her being inexperienced, she must be seriously good in bed. Why else would it cost so much to date her? It was not like she was a celebrity escort, like a model or an actress, where the price could be justified. She was by no means the most expensive one he had come across but something was not adding up.

"You never told me what you said to her," said Yamazaki. "Eriol-kun said she asked to leave the club early? He's still pissed with you by the way."

Syaoran drank his champagne in silence. What he had said was between him and the girl. He was not even sure why he had bothered talking to her. However, her terrified behaviour moments ago was troubling. Had he been too harsh? He doubted that she had not heard worse in her line of work. All he had really wanted was for her to keep her distance. When she got close, it did something to him. But the girl just kept coming back for more, when all she had to do was shut up.

"It's her voice," he told Yamazaki.

"Her voice?"

"She insists on talking. And the sound is irritating."

"It sounds normal to me."

"Well it's not," said Syaoran, a sudden heat rising up the back of his neck. "It sounds like…"

_Like strawberries dipped in whipped cream._

"Nails on a chalkboard."

"You think so?" said Yamazaki, brows creased.

Syaoran pursed his lips. He knew what he heard. She must have practised that voice a lot. One full of coquettishness and warmth. One that begged you with each breathy word to ravage her until she forgot her own name. That time when she had said it was a pleasure to meet him had sounded so... inviting. And those shy glances she sent from underneath her lashes were like hungry requests to use her body anyway he liked and he had briefly thought - _maybe was still thinking_ \- of filling the proposition wholeheartedly. Fuck. When she said Eriol wanted her to come for him… he heard that so differently from the way she intended, he could have strangled himself.

He glared at the floor, silently chastising his dirty mind as he continued to follow Yamazaki. Where were these thoughts flying in from? They were getting out of control. She was no one important. And he had seen better. _Much_ better. As a matter of fact, he had the best. His gaze flickered to her again and his insides trembled. Every time he looked at her all he wanted to do was _touch _her.

It was so damn irrational.

It was alarming.

This kind of thing did not happen to him.

He did not know the girl, did not particularly care to either and yet, he could not say exactly what it was but she had it and he wanted it. All of it. Bad.

Maybe it was the way she looked all innocent in the beginning but when she parted her lips just a little, and squinted her eyes just so, she morphed into an incredibly sensual vixen. Or maybe it was the graceful curve where her neck met her shoulder. Or the way she moved as she walked towards you, like a submissive nymph. Or it could be the way she touched her collarbone delicately whenever - _what the hell?_

He walked right into Yamazaki, who looked back at him confused and with a strange glimmer in his eyes.

"What?" asked Syaoran.

"_You_ were looking at the courtesan," said Yamazaki, like he was revealing something monumental.

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes you were."

"You're seeing things."

"Seeing things? Who do I look like? Your fiancée?"

"No. Then you would be hearing things too."

Yamazaki chuckled.

"True. Chiharu told me, that she told her, that when you went to Beijing last month, a friend of hers who was staying at your hotel _saw_ you talking to Bingbing. Took Chiharu a good thirty minutes to convince her not to show up and beat Bingbing's lights out."

Yamazaki was beaming like it was the most thrilling news he had heard in a while. Man, he liked to gossip. Syaoran shook his head in disgust as the memory came to him.

"I tried to tell her I didn't remember talking to any girl. That I didn't even know who this Bingbing was."

"Really? She's one of the top models out right now! How could you not know her?"

"That's what she said..."

"Seriously though, who doesn't know who Bingbing is?" asked Yamazaki. "No wonder you almost got your head chewed off. Do you know _anything_ about pop culture?"

"Apparently not. I got threatened with the couch that night."

"Wow. Li Xiao Lang regulated to the couch."

"I never said I slept there. No one can put me out of my own bed. Especially when I didn't do anything wrong."

"If we all were so lucky," said Yamazaki, grudgingly. "Women huh."

Syaoran nodded.

"Chiharu said that maybe if you took her on your business trips, she would feel more secure."

"I tried that a long time ago," said Syaoran. "She never told you? She wanted to have fun and go out together which was fine but she underestimated just how much work I had to do. She felt like I didn't want her around. Then she thought I was, in her words, 'fucking that Ivy League bitch Ming.' She almost convinced Mother as well."

Yamazaki winced.

"It got ugly?"

"Very. So we have an unspoken rule now. No spouses on business trips."

Syaoran emptied his glass of champagne.

"I don't know why she gets this way. You don't put ideas into her head do you? You know you can be a compulsive story-teller and by that I mean a no-good liar, when you're ready."

Yamazaki gave a sheepish smile.

"Maybe it's her friends? Let's see, Chiharu probably went into the dining room," he muttered, looking around, trying to catch sight of her.

He headed in the direction of the dining room and Syaoran glared at his back. Yamazaki had a way of joking around with a straight face that made people actually take his lies for hardcore facts, even when he said he was not serious. Between him and Eriol, it was a miracle he still had a relationship.

"I told her I was only going to be a minute but it took a while to find you," muttered Yamazaki, anxiously.

Syaoran shook his head knowingly and Yamazaki's ears reddened. Chiharu had him tied around her fingers and everyone knew it.

They found her sitting at their reserved table. Syaoran plucked the card with his name on it from the table top and laid it flat as he sat down. It happened that five minutes later, the courtesan, thorn in his side as she was fast becoming, sat down with her latest date-victim, at a table of which he had plain view. She saw him. She did not make it obvious but she saw him. She fidgeted with the ends of her hair, shifted in her seat and every so often there would be a brief glance in his direction.

It was not the first time Syaoran had gotten such a response from a female but it felt very satisfying to elicit it from her especially when she was trying so hard not to react. There were other men at her table, vying for her attention like schoolboys in the midst of the prettiest girl in the class and yet, several tables away, he had her.

"Li-kun," said Chiharu. "I thought you weren't coming again. Are you staying for the whole thing? Or just dinner?"

The courtesan took a sip of wine and sneakily peeked at him as she did so. He had not planned on remaining for the auction but...

"I'll stay."

* * *

It was minutes to eleven when the fundraiser ended. People were saying their goodbyes and taking their last glasses of wine and champagne. Shoji had met a fellow artist friend and they were in a heated discussion about some controversial photograph that had been taken in Singapore. Sakura vaguely recollected hearing something about it but did not know enough to contribute to the conversation.

Sitting there with just the two of them was a lot better experience than sitting there when the dining room had been full. Li Syaoran had been watching her the entire time with the most superior look on his face. Her night had been great until she had seen him in the ballroom. After that, he was the only thing she could think about. Was he thinking she was rude? A crybaby? Annoying? She gulped. Or was he still thinking of paying her to undress? Every now and then something about his expression had said it was the latter.

"You can go out on the balcony if you want," said Shoji as his friend got up to tell a lady goodnight. "From there you can see the garden. The night sky here in the country is really something to behold."

Sakura took his suggestion and truly the stars seemed to shine much brighter than they did in the city. She leaned over the balcony to get a good look at the garden below her. It looked like it had been fashioned by an elf. It was so sparkly and colourful, she was sure wishes could be granted there. What a shame that no one else was appreciating it. They were too busy talking about their latest acquisitions. Nothing was wrong with that but goodness, they were missing out on something heavenly.

"You're blocking the view."

Sakura snapped around, her heart pounding hard against her ribcage. She was flustered but it took no time to recognize the frosty bite that was Li Syaoran's voice. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the balcony shadows, she found herself staring into his face. He was standing, arms folded loosely over his chest. And though there was no wind and the night was warm, Sakura squeezed the clutch in her hand and shuddered.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, chest heaving. "Sneaking up on people like that? It's not right."

Syaoran raised an eyebrow.

"I was here first," he told her. "You walked right past me."

Sakura scanned the balcony. It was possible. The lights were not on and Syaoran _was_ standing in the dark. It was not like she had been expecting to see him. After the auction he had practically disappeared from sight so she thought he had left.

Recalling what she had said to him the last time they were together, she was sure she should make a quick exit but his gaze held her fast. Unfolding his arms, he walked towards her, his cool gait reminding her of a wolf on the prowl. She would have stepped back but the balcony railings were already pressing into her lower spine.

Sakura gripped a balcony bar tightly, drawing in a deep breath that was supposed to be steadying. Syaoran stood a foot away from her, chest out and head angled downwards to deliver a probing stare.

"Li-san," she said, greeting him properly.

He said nothing for a seemingly unending moment. Sakura gripped the bar tighter, trying to absorb some of the iron into her veins so he would not break her with whatever words were no doubt on the tip of his tongue. Silently, Syaoran moved to stand beside her.

Her neck twisted as though he had it on a leash, pulling it around to keep her eyes on him, always. He took another long hard look at her before tilting his head in question. Sakura squinted not knowing what that question was.

"Aren't you supposed to be entertaining?" Syaoran asked finally.

Sakura's head sank into her shoulders as he leaned in.

"I don't feel entertained, courtesan."

Sakura gave an apologetic grimace. Hardly able to breathe, she bit out, "With all due respect Li-san, Shoji-san is the only man I am required to entertain tonight."

Syaoran stood straight and his eyes narrowed. There was a primal simmer behind his brown stare and she flushed as she yet again recalled what he wanted from her. It was wrong of him but no one had ever expressed interest in her the way he had, so yes, she mulled over his words from time to time. In disbelief.

"I didn't mean to impose on you," she told him, her legs weakening. "I'll go."

"Stay."

The command was unnecessary. She was unable to peel her fingers off the iron bar or break eye contact even though she wanted to. How could he be so in control all the time? So confident? So demanding, in a manner that expected compliance?

"Do you also need to be paid to have a conversation with a fellow guest?" he asked, stiffly.

"No," said Sakura, realizing the foolishness of her last grand statement. "You're right. But I didn't think you'd want to talk to me of all people."

"My options are limited," said Syaoran, blunt as a butter knife. "Obviously."

He looked out into the distance, hands in his pockets. Sakura released the balcony, no longer feeling trapped, and turned around to look out at the wide expanse of greenery with him. She could no longer see the garden though. From the corner of her eyes, she watched him sulk for no reason. Why did she end up feeling bad when he was the one who needed the attitude adjustment? It was not like he was her client tonight.

She sighed quietly.

"Ano...did you enjoy the evening Li-san?" she asked, almost afraid to upset him by talking too loud or too cheerily. It was the only thing she could come up with for why he disliked her, so she would take her energy level down a bit.

Almost reluctantly, he took a glimpse of her.

"I tolerated the evening," he said. "Giving to the less fortunate is noble but it would have taken less time to write a cheque than it did to put on this suit."

Sakura gasped.

"That's what _I_ thought! Maybe they're trying to make it exciting to donate? But I won't lie. I really liked seeing all the art-pieces. It makes me wish I was talented like the artists here tonight. I can't believe the things people can create with their hands. It's amazing, isn't it? If I was able to I'd probably buy almost everything I saw!"

"There _were_ some good pieces," he agreed.

"I saw that you bought a vintage watch," said Sakura, remembering how Syaoran had waited for the highest bid to be placed before placing his own, which was only contested once. "Is that something that interests you Li-san? Vintage artefacts?"

"Someone I know collects them. The watches."

Syaoran's expression softened for a fleeting second. Sakura smiled.

"A special someone?" she asked, sending a sly look his way, surprised by how much she really wanted to know if there was someone. After all, what woman in her right mind would put up with him? And what woman would he, with all his standards, find acceptable?

Syaoran looked down at her, like he was considering something. Then he turned to face her fully.

"Tall, slim men over 80 isn't exactly my type."

Sakura broke out in a huge grin and giggled.

"Oh. It's for a friend then?"

"Yes."

She held her hands to her chest.

"That's so sweet of you Li-san. You must care about him a lot to give him such a thoughtful gift."

_Especially one that cost a super expensive 2.26 million dollars._

"He's been my mentor and friend for a long time. But it's not a federal case like you're making it out to be."

"In this world where everyone pretty much just looks out for themselves, I'd say it is," said Sakura, sure of her words.

She had known deep in her heart Li Syaoran was not all bad. No one was all bad. He may never like her but at least she had a new perspective of him now and it was impossible to see good in someone and not feel goodwill towards that person. Simply talking about this friend of his made him give off a different aura - one that was calmer and less hostile. This kinder side to him made her want to reach out and cup his cheeks and tell him it was all right to be nice and let his guard down. He was just like her brother!

"What?" asked Syaoran, peering down at her suspiciously.

"Nothing!" said Sakura, and she smiled uneasily. Biting down on her bottom lip, she wondered, had her thoughts shown on her face?

The chatter and music around them grew dimmer and dimmer the longer Syaoran searched her face for the thoughts she was hiding. His gaze was unwavering. A light wind blew from the east, sending wisps of hair across the bridge of her nose. She reached up to slip them behind her ear but stopped. Syaoran's fingers were poised inches from her face. Her sudden halt seemed to have frozen him as well and his expression said he was completely perplexed. Slowly, he withdrew his hand and fisted it tightly at his side.

"Li-kun!"

The moment broke and they both looked around to find a pale girl with long, dark hair, standing under the balcony doorway.

"I wonder, do you have a pen I can borrow?"

Her voice made Sakura think of fairy dust. Syaoran patted the pockets of his black Chinese suit and shook his head no. Sakura though, fished inside her clutch and pulled out a pink pen with wings at the ends. Why she packed this childish one, she had no idea.

"Here," she said. "You can have mine."

The girl's face lit up. She took the pen and clutched it to her chest. Sakura expected her to leave and go about her business but she just stood there.

"Who are you?" the girl asked, sounding almost breathless.

"Sakamoto Ayame," said Sakura.

"I'm Daidouji Tomoyo. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Daidouji?" Sakura grinned. "I loved your dresses!"

"You did? I'm so glad. I can't even believe people bought them all. My night has been made now that such a beautiful creature expressed her approval of my designs!"

Sakura tilted her head.

"Eh?"

"You simply must model for me sometime-"

"Daidouji," said Syaoran. "Leave the woman in peace."

"But she'll be perfect to model my designs."

"I'm sorry Daijouji-san but-"

"Call me Tomoyo," said the woman to Sakura.

"I'm sorry Tomoyo-san-"

"Chan, please. We can be the best of friends."

Sakura did not have to respond to this odd declaration because a brown-haired girl whom she had seen sitting with Syaoran and Yamazaki earlier, ran up to Tomoyo and started tugging her away.

"I've been looking for you," she said. "Come on."

"I'll bring back your pen," said Tomoyo as she left.

"Keep it," said Sakura.

"Oh thank you Ayame-chan! I will cherish it forever and-"

Sakura did not hear the rest. Tomoyo was too far away.

"That was..."

"Daidouji," said Syaoran, shaking his head.

"You're friends with her?"

"More like an acquaintance."

"She's a bit..."

"Looney."

Sakura giggled, for a moment forgetting to be intimidated by Syaoran.

"I wouldn't put it quite like that," she said, walking into the bright ballroom.

"Ayame-san," called Shoji as he approached them. "Ready to go?"

"Hai," she said, though she was the one who had been waiting on him.

"Li-san," said Shoji, bowing.

Syaoran gave him a curt nod.

"Yamada."

Shoji rest his hand lightly on the small of Sakura's back. Normally, she would not think twice about it but Syaoran was unabashedly observing their every interaction.

"It's been a while," said Shoji.

"You two know each other?" asked Sakura.

"Li-san's mother commissioned me to do a painting once. Took me about eight months."

"Wow," said Sakura. "You're so dedicated Shoji-kun."

She did not think she could commit to one thing for so long a time. He pulled her closer as he nervously laughed, denying her compliments. Sakura wrapped a hand around his waist and flashed a smile enjoying watching him loosening up. When she had first met him, he did not say much but she had gotten him to be more social and talkative.

"But you _are_ the best artist here," she told him, when he said there were others much better than himself. "The way you mix colours… I'm no expert… but it makes me feel everything you intended me to feel. I could stare at your paintings for hours and not miss the real world."

Though she was lavishing Shoji with attention she could not help the sidelong glance she cast at Syaoran. Her heart jolted. He was still watching them. No. He was watching her. Her skin prickled and once again, she felt him on every inch of her skin.

"Well we'll be seeing you, Li-san," Shoji told Syaoran. "Ayame-san has to go home now so we'll be leaving."

Syaoran gave a firm nod and walked away.

As she stared at his back, she realised that he had surprised her. She had expected him to be his usual abrasive self but he was actually rather normal. If he could be that way when she was dating someone else, why was he so different when she had come for his company? She smiled softly as Shoji led her out of the mansion. She and Li Syaoran had ended things well at last and she felt she could live with that.

* * *

A/N

Hey Tomodachi! There was a long delay in posting because I'm ill. Anyhoo, the chapter finally came. Yay! Have you all ever realised how many love triangles there are in CCS? There's 1. Sakura, Syaoran, Meilin 2. Sakura, Syaoran, Touya 3. Sakura, Syaoran, Yukito 4. Sakura, Syaoran, Tomoyo 5. Nadeshiko, Fujitaka, Sonomi... lol I was going to list them all but there are so many and I'm getting lazy.

I really appreciate you all so a BIG Thank You to reviewers: Khiyo Gizele, Guest, ding (pressure indeeed. You're about 50% right. Now sit down and stop being a smart alec :P. Oh and you got the other 50% in this chapter, about his behaviour that is), rosy black (sorry, he doesn't know him), Cee, kaoru104, Guest, PrincessNevermore (you will definitely learn more about Syaoran in the next chapters as there will be more of his POV), Guest, Desire, Guest, Damaged Forest Spirit and ameloncholicangel!

Read and Review. Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^


	5. Just a Little, Teeny-Weeny Obsession

**Chapter Five**

**Just a Little, Teeny-Weeny Obsession**

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

Syaoran closed the door to his penthouse suite and slipped out of his work shoes. He placed them neatly in the foyer closet and turned off all the lights as he went to his room. It was after midnight and he had finally decided to call it quits after having taken out some of his executives and managers for a night of drinking. His head was buzzing slightly and now that he thought about it, he probably should not have driven himself back to the hotel.

Resting his laptop, safe in its case on his bed, he pulled off his clothes and took a quick, cold shower and attempted to wash away all the tobacco residue stuck to his skin. He did not smoke except for a brief puff now and then when one of his uncles insisted they had found a greater, better brand that he should try, but since everyone else did, the smell of tobacco was not something he could get away from. Scrubbing his skin until it was so sterile it would make a hospital janitor proud, he wrapped a towel around his waist and moved over to the vanity to brush his teeth.

His night-time ritual done with, he went back into his bedroom. Donning a pair of boxer briefs and dark-green pajama bottoms, he made up his already straight bed and fluffed his pillows before he sunk into it. He lay there for a few quiet and peaceful minutes, water dripping softly onto his chest and shoulders from his damp hair. After being around people for most of the day, he usually revelled in this time he had to himself, no other voices in his head but his own.

He exhaled a long, weary breath as his gaze drifted around his dim room, lit only from the natural moonlight pouring through his windows. He sat up and grabbed his laptop case. Zipping it open, he pulled out his sleek, silver computer and opened it. The screen lit up instantly, casting his face in blue light. He typed in his password and opened up a new webpage. Before he could stop himself or was really aware of what he was searching for, he was clicking on a link that said: Hikaru House.

He selected the gallery of girls and scrolled down until he found the one he wanted: Sakamoto Ayame. She was the only courtesan who had short hair from what he could tell and he liked that. It was different which made her interesting. His gaze slid down her profile - age, weight, height, dress size - and he sunk low in his bed when he read her measurements. She had a nice body. Her waist was not small enough to make her hourglass but she was close enough. He skimmed her About Me paragraph but the pictures said more than those words ever could. He took a deep breath and swallowed the bubble of excitement rising within him.

He tapped his fingertips over the laptop keys lightly as he filled his eyes to their absolute satisfaction. In most of the pictures she was dressed in fitted skirts and dresses but there was one in which she was dressed in a white swimsuit with provocative cutouts at the sides. Even in the pictures she was a tease. She could not find a sheer bikini or some lingerie like the other courtesans on the page? Even her poses were innocent but he had a vivid and healthy imagination and it did not take long before her static pictures were in motion and she was twisting and stretching every which way for him to get a better look at her. He sank lower down on his bed. Bending his knees, he raised the laptop a bit as his hand moved beneath the device. He took a firm grip of himself and stroked a couple of times, head tilting back in contentment.

Then the courtesan was there, standing with poise beside his bed in that white dress she had worn to the club. She moved towards him in that alluring way she had and as she climbed on top of him, every stitch of clothing disappeared from her skin. She sank onto his hardness, her eyes smouldering, making him see galaxies that had not been discovered yet. And Syaoran gripped himself tighter, mirroring the way he imagined it would feel to have her hot, wet, _please let it be tight_ -

His joints locked in place and his eyes flew open wide.

_No_.

Yanking his hand back he clicked off the webpage and shut the laptop screen with a snap, shoving the computer away so hard it skidded to the end of the bed. There it lay, gleaming at him treacherously. Dragging his palms down his face, Syaoran groaned.

That damn girl…

She was one of those women. Loose, conniving women. Yet he had been peeved when he had seen her dancing with that guy at the club, his hands on her hips and waist, feeling her body move the way he had wanted to feel it when he saw it in action. Then at the charity fundraiser, she and Yamada Shoji were all over each other like the picture-perfect couple. He snorted. How exasperating it had been to listen to her fawn over the artist like there were no better men in the room. She probably had not meant a single word she said either.

Syaoran fisted his bedsheets. She had never behaved like that with him - not that he had given her the chance. She did say he was sweet to buy the watch but what man wanted to be called sweet? She might as well have said he was impotent. Yet, he did not mind so much though because of that voice.

Unlike Eriol who felt women kept business dinners civil which was why he had insisted on hiring the courtesans, Syaoran felt that they distracted the men. Needless to say, he was right because at the restaurant all he had listened to was her conversation with the other escort. That voice of hers was so intoxicating. Her little gasps of awe were so electrifying too. It was good the other escort's crude behaviour gave him a reason to get rid of the courtesan so he could direct his brain elsewhere.

Syaoran's cheeks heated up. As irritating as she was, physically, she was appealing to him. He nestled his hands behind his head and studied the smooth white ceiling, still trying to wrap his mind around that. It had been over a week since he had last seen her and whenever his mind wandered, he would find her there and he did not know why. He never before thought that he had a "type" but maybe he did. Maybe she was it. Maybe that was why. He had seen women with her figure, eye colour, hairstyle, kawaiiness as they liked to call it in Japan but all of those things combined, on her, was... incredibly tantalizing.

He stared at the ceiling for over half an hour before jumping out of bed. Stomping to the kitchen, he ripped open the refrigerator which nearly blinded him with white light, and grabbed a bottle of water. He twisted the cap off and put the bottle to his lips, grimacing at the icy coldness sliding down his throat. He set the bottle down hard, the glass clinking sharply against the marble counter top. Leaning back against the refrigerator, he breathed deeply, ignoring the tight feeling between his legs.

This courtesan was like a disease slowly infesting his mind. He honestly had not noticed how much he had been thinking about her until just then. But he _had _been thinking about her and keeping an eye out for her at meetings and events he went to. He had even mentioned such dates to Eriol, secretly hoping the man would be a nuisance like he always was and somehow convince her to show up. It did not help that Tomoyo kept on asking him for her contact either.

He just could not get her out of his head.

Syaoran yawned tiredly. He put the water bottle back in the fridge and went back to his bedroom. The courtesan was not so important that he should lose sleep over her.

* * *

_Was her skin as soft as it looked? It must feel like silk._

He had almost touched her that time on the balcony. He could have found out then.

"... meeting with the company lawyers. Then you have a conference call at 1:30 pm and a 15 minute meeting with Hiiragizawa-sama at 2:20 pm. After that you have a meeting with the Chief Product Officer at 3:15 pm."

_Her hair looked soft too. And it was thick and glossy._

He would like to touch that too. Among other things.

_Like her lips. Yes, her peach-coloured lips were definitely on the list of parts of her that had to be felt. They were so full and looked so succulent - her mouth must taste like sweetest sin._

"Your sister Li Feimei called while you were meeting the HRM. Do you want me to get her on the line? Li-sama? Li-sama."

Syaoran blinked, his assistant Hu Ming coming into focus in front of him. She was scrolling down the screen of her tablet but paused to look up at him.

"Do you want me to get her on the line?" she repeated.

Syaoran sat up straight and rest a hand on the papers on his desk, grounding himself in the moment.

"No." He cleared the rasp out of his throat. "I know what she wants. I'll call her later. You can leave now."

Ming peered like an owl over her eyeglasses at him but stood without uttering another word. Bowing, she left the room. Syaoran leaned back against his executive chair with a deep sigh. All morning he had been distracted. He could not seem to truly comprehend anything that day and it all stemmed from his thoughts late last night.

He turned his open laptop towards him and stared at the screen full of financial charts and graphs showing quarterly financial reports. His fingers hovered over the laptop keys, unmoving. Then sighing again, this time in defeat, he typed in what it seemed was fast becoming his vice.

He scrolled through the gallery of women with expert swiftness and clicked on the main attraction. He reclined on his seat again, elbow on the chair arm, his thumb wedged between his teeth. He must have read the courtesan's profile a thousand times and if quizzed on it he would not get a single thing wrong.

In her About Me paragraph she talked about how much she enjoyed meeting people and engaging in conversation with everyone. She was athletic and liked to bake and cook for her family, friends and special people in her life. Her About Me did not sound particularly enticing in the intimate sense. Of course, a professional had probably written it with tidbits from her but he found a recurring theme throughout - the words pure, playful, young and innocent were sprinkled about with great enthusiasm. He looked at a few other courtesans and their profiles were laden with words like sensual, exotic, delightful and satisfying.

He became even more confused to read that she was only available for public engagements. What kind of courtesan did not take private meetings? Despite what people wanted to believe about having quality conversations and dates, the point was to eventually take these women to bed so he did not understand why he could not have this one that way. Not that he really wanted to; his nighttime and early morning fantasies were just that. Fantasies. But how was she supposed to make money like the others? Men tended to tip big when they were in for a treat.

He got up from his seat and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of his office. He slipped his hands into his pockets. As he gazed over Tokyo city, bustling with energy just like his brain cells, he attempted to figure out the strange case that was that green-eyed pain.

The tinkling sound of her laugh when he described Wei to her had made him quite pleased with himself. He was not a funny person and though he had meant to be sarcastic, she saw the humour in his words. Reluctantly, he admitted that he liked it - getting that response from her without any conscious effort on his part. She might have been faking as most women like her often did to get more money out of you, but he had bought it.

He turned around to gaze at his computer screen when his cellphone rang.

"Yes Takashi," he answered, eyes still fixed to the courtesan's pictures.

"You still having that business lunch today?"

"Since you called, you already figured out that I'm not."

"Yeah yeah. We having lunch together then?"

Syaoran shook his head. Sometimes he wondered if Yamazaki had hung around too many girls as a child. He was always trying to make plans to have brunch or lunch or whatever meal was appropriate to the time of day, just to spend time with him. But he was only in Japan for so long so he never minded these impromptu dates.

"Sure," he said.

"What time?"

The screensaver came on and Syaoran quickly went over to his laptop and tapped a random key, bringing the courtesan's images back into his eyesight.

"What did you say?" he asked, lightly tracing the outline of her hip with his finger.

"What time?" asked Yamazaki. Then he added, "You busy or something? You sound distracted."

"Just looking over a few things," said Syaoran. "Meet me in the lobby at 12."

"All right," said Yamazaki, excitedly. "Wait, Italian or Chinese?"

"Chinese."

"You always pick Chinese!" whined Yamazaki.

"And yet you always give me a choice."

There was a loud huff.

"I don't know how she puts up with you."

For a brief moment, Syaoran wondered what the courtesan was saying about him to his best friend before he realized Yamazaki was not referring to her.

"You really need to start taking chances outside of business," said Yamazaki. "Try something new every once in a while. _Damn_ man. So let me ask again, Italian or Chinese?"

"Chinese."

"I give up!" said Yamazaki, but Syaoran could hear the grin in his voice. "See you at 12."

Slipping his phone into his pocket, Syaoran sat down at his desk, leaning forward until his face was inches from the laptop screen. He could not deny the heaviness in his groin or the goosebumps on the skin of his arms. They were real. The hairs on the back of his neck raised and a pleasurable shiver ran along his spinal cord. He glared fiercely at the screen, silently cursing the instigator Eriol into the deepest pits of hell.

* * *

It had been a regular Friday afternoon. Sakura was in her apartment, munching on popcorn while watching the celebrity gossip channel without a care in the world, when she got a call from Naoko. The message was brief. Satomi wanted to see her pronto. So she hurriedly dressed and bustled to the agency because you did not leave Satomi waiting.

When she arrived at the Hikaru House, Naoko told her to go right in to Satomi's office. The lady was smoking a cigarette by the open window, with the most feminine grace Sakura had ever seen someone smoke. She never allowed the courtesans to smoke but watching her, Sakura almost felt like she wanted to. When Satomi saw her, she took a short pull, then walked over to her desk and outed the thin, white stick in an ashtray.

She sat down and breathed out, a thin mist of smoke issuing from her scarlet red lips.

"Li Syaoran spoke with me this morning," she told Sakura, without preamble.

Sakura gripped the sides of her chair. Did he call to complain about her? She thought they were good now! Was she going to get fired because he did not feel entertained, when he was not even her client that night?

"He wants your company Sunday afternoon. Three hours."

Sakura gawked. She must have hallucinated. She gave herself a mental shake.

"I'm sorry. Can you repeat that?"

"Li Syaoran wants your company on Sunday," repeated Satomi, patiently. "Three hours."

So it was not a hallucination? This was happening right now? It had been some time since she had seen Li Syaoran at the fundraiser. She never expected him to call. _For her_. Sure they had one pleasant conversation but she was pretty sure he _hated_ her!

"Naoko informed me of your reluctance to entertain him again and I spoke to him about this matter. He told me to assure you that it will be a pleasant experience if you came. He's willing to pay $6 000 an hour. An incentive for you to accept the date."

Sakura's jaw dropped. He must really have it in for her. She should start writing up her last will and testament because this was how it all ended - going on a date alone with Li Syaoran. Without Hiiragizawa Eriol or Yamazaki Takashi? She was not coming out of this alive.

But then the shock started wearing off and even darker thoughts invaded her mind. What did he want from her for all that money? He did say he thought he should be entitled to certain things if he was paying a lot. This time it was not Eriol's money. It was his. If she took the money would he expect certain things from her?

"Is it a normal date?" she asked quietly. "Because I think... I think he wants..."

"Something all men want," said Satomi, a hint of a smile on her face. "Why else would he offer to pay more?"

"But-"

"On the website it's clear what you offer," said Satomi. "You provide a chaste girlfriend experience. You know this. He knows this. He wants you all the same and he's already paid in full."

Sakura glanced away in shock. If he had already paid, then Satomi was not really asking for permission to set them up on a date. She was telling her that she had to go.

"Normally I'd leave the decision up to you," said Satomi, confirming her fears. "But it's Li Syaoran. He's quite low profile so you may never have heard of him but believe me when I say, he's a man you'll want to have for a regular client. In a matter of hours, look what he has accomplished for you, raising your salary like he did. I can't charge any less for you now."

"Why's that?"

"Once a client raises your salary, do you think I'll accept anything less from your future ones? This _is_ a business."

"Oh..."

"Whatever he said or did to you before doesn't matter," said Satomi. "This is a new beginning. You will be the best, most cordial, exhilarating date he's ever had. I want you on your most ladylike behaviour. I have a reputation to uphold and he runs in an elite circle. I offered him someone more experienced and willing but he insisted on you."

"I understand, Satomi-san."

After she was dismissed, Sakura fell weakly against the front of Satomi's office door. Had Li Syaoran really been offered someone better and chose her nevertheless? For a fleeting moment Sakura felt a surge of womanly pride but it quickly fizzled out when she remembered it was _Li Syaoran_ that she was thinking about. Satomi had basically said to be his perfect date but what in the world was that?

* * *

A/N

Hey Tomodachi! So this is the shortest chapter yet but I hope you liked it. Thank you again signed reviewers and thank you anonymous reviewers kirakura, Monstar xo, reader, Reader and abcdef. abcdef, I planned to update twice a week but so far things have come up and I'm also writing out chapters for my other story. But I will try to make the twice a week schedule okay. If I can do more then I will but I only get to write at night.

So this is a long story in which characters will develop in good ways, in bad ways... crazy ways, insane ways. lol. I think I'm writing a mini soap opera actually!

Well Read and Review. And Until Next Time, Ja ne! ^_^


	6. Emotions Run Best Wild

**Chapter Six**

**Emotions Run Best Wild**

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

Too soon Sunday had arrived and Sakura was in a taxi cab on her way to meet Syaoran. She smoothed out her black mini dress, patterned with white daisies. It was new. She had bought it just for this date. She thought it was both youthful because of the print and somewhat enticing because of its snug fit. Satomi's staff had taught her how to dress well. She hoped Syaoran liked it and if he did not, she hoped he would not ridicule her.

She took her lip gloss out of her small crossbody bag and applied more to her lips, her hand trembling. It had been years since she had bitten her nails and if it was not for the fact that they were freshly manicured in a cute pale pink, she may have chewed off every single one.

The cab pulled up to the curb in front of one of the largest shopping malls in Tokyo. Taking a deep breath, she checked her watch. It was now 2:59 pm.

She stood on the sidewalk looking around for any sign of the formidable Li Syaoran. She gasped. The guy standing against the building wall, arms folded, wearing a dark jeans and grey long-sleeved henley _was_ Li Syaoran! He looked so _normal_; so non-threatening! And even though he had on aviator sunglasses it was obvious to her now, because of his lightly tousled bangs and his confident stance, that it was indeed him.

He walked over to her, slipping off his aviators as he neared. She readjusted her bag's chain strap on her shoulder and breathed out steadily. Having always seen him at night, she was momentarily taken aback by the honey-like hue of his eyes in the bright sunshine. They were, for lack of a more masculine word, pretty.

"I knew you'd come."

Sakura gave a mental groan. He had to open his mouth and let the haughtiness show.

"Because of the money?" she asked, demurely.

"Yes," he said. "All madams are the same. You call a big enough price and they get the courtesans to follow through."

His gaze glided slowly down her body as he looked her over. Sakura's cheeks burned and she averted her eyes, suddenly feeling quite naked beneath his appraising stare. Most dates would have made a comment about her appearance by now and Sakura waited with bated breath for a compliment from him. She realized that she did indeed want one very much because she really had tried to appeal to him today and she wanted to know that her efforts had not been in vain.

When their eyes met again, he gave a little satisfied nod. A ticklish tremour ran through her belly and her feet wobbled ever so slightly in her nude heels.

"Well," said Syaoran, his sharp, rich tone making her shudder. "You are mine for the next three hours. Entertain me."

Sakura's face grew hotter. How could she respond to that statement? She did not believe she had ever had anyone - friend or client - refer to her as their own. At least, not in his manner which made her head bow so very passively and her fingers clutch each other for strength.

"Hey. You there?" asked Syaoran, leaning forward to observe her more closely when she did not answer.

"Hai, Li-san," she said, glancing around them uneasily. "I was thinking. That's all."

Usually when she arrived, it was straight to dinner or an event with her client. None of them had ever showed up with nothing in mind to do. But they were in front of a shopping center; and though it was a surprising choice, maybe Syaoran had chosen it for its variety?

"Ano... would you like to go inside?" she asked gesturing to the building before them.

"We're not here by accident, courtesan."

He stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. Giving him a shaky smile, she walked through the sliding doors, his tall, overwhelming presence trailing her every step. She tried to think of something he would want to do, all the while attempting to ignore the way his gaze was boring into the back of her head. He continued to watch her as she read the mall guide posted near the elevators. It took her about five minutes to get through it because she was so conscious of his blatantly keen interest in her every move.

"Would you like to do a bit of window shopping?" she murmured. "There are lots of stores on the eleventh floor. We can walk around for a bit..."

He nodded and pressed the elevator button with his knuckle. As they stood waiting, she saw that he was holding his aviators in his hand. The frame was solid gold and she cringed thinking about it falling from him or worse, him leaving it somewhere. But it could have just been that she wanted to touch something of his, since it was clear she was not allowed to lay a finger on him, as she once more found herself wanting to do.

"Would you like me to keep those for you Li-san?" she asked, gesturing at the sunglasses and then to her small bag.

He silently considered the proposition before holding them out to her. She took them and set them down gently in her bag. It was a close fit but she was sure they would not get crushed.

The elevator doors opened and she stepped inside, Syaoran behind her. He selected the floor and just as the doors were shutting close, a hand shot forward. All of a sudden there was a barrage of adults and children holding balloons saying Happy Birthday, cascading into the elevator. Sakura stumbled back trying to accommodate the sudden influx of people. She stepped on something and glanced down to find Syaoran's slip-on leather sneakers. Her brother was a footwear enthusiast so she knew those were Bottega Venetta. She winced and peeked up at him apologetically.

Of course, his brown eyes were already upon her and she quickly lowered her gaze, imagining the reproach instead of having the backbone to witness it herself. The elevator doors tried to close but kept on springing open. People shifted around forcing her back even further.

_Hoe_.

If they continued she would be pressed into Syaoran! She straightened her spine and clutched her arms in front of her, making herself small but the group made a collective step back and there she was, _molded_ to Syaoran's front. She went rigid, the back of her neck tingling. His chest… it was so firm and solid. His deep breaths pushing it against her back felt so powerful and robust. Compared to the only other young guy she dated, Shoji, Syaoran was well-built and it would be untrue if she said she did not like the sensation of his body heat radiating all over her. And that smell. Ginger and something woody perhaps? She had to resist the urge to turn around and sniff the cologne from his clothes.

He puffed out and she moved forward as much as she could - which was an inch or two - not wanting to impose too much on his space, for too long. Why was the eleventh floor taking so long to get there? The elevator stopped and opened. One lady got out making everyone shift again. Sakura was about to try and move farther forward when she felt Syaoran's chest rest against her back like before.

She stiffened at the unexpected touch, eyes wide, heart pounding. She had not moved. She was sure of it. So how -? Unless he -? _Did_ he? There was a churning in her belly and her bones started to move on their own. The next thing she knew her butt was pressing into his pelvis. _Hoe_. What was going on with her? She glanced skittishly at the people around her. No one was paying attention to her minute movements. No one cared. Did _he_ notice? That question was answered when she felt the smallest pressure pushing back against her rear end.

_Oh dear._

He knew. And he was meeting her tit for tat.

She licked her lips and faintly scraped the side of her neck. Syaoran's presence was smothering her mind and all she could think about was him; more precisely that triangle that was pelvis. Groin. Crotch. Pe-

_No. Bad Sakura! Don't think about that. Don't think about IT._

She pulled on the hem of her dress and blew air past her lips. Heavens. It was so hot in there. Her skin was flushed. And she was dizzy. She would certainly pass out soon.

But the elevator doors opened again and everyone spilled out. Slowly, she peeled herself from Syaoran and took a few steps forward. She turned, regarding him with apprehension. His jawline was tight, his eyes dark, and his stare hard. Was he vexed about her stepping on his feet? Should she apologize? Or was he thinking that she was being a whore, rubbing up against him like she had? He raked his bangs up with his fingers and gave an annoyed shake of the head. Then he brushed past her before the elevator could close.

"Which way?" he asked, voice hoarse, when she got out behind him.

"Over here," she answered, spotting some male fashion stores to their right.

Syaoran strolled behind her as they walked in and out of several stores. She had to keep glancing back to see if he was still there because he was so quiet. She became aware though, that every time she looked at him, his eyes would fly upwards to her face. The fourth time it happened, she paused, and peered down at the back of her dress. There was nothing there. And then it dawned on her. He was checking her out!

She snapped around in shock but her sudden consciousness of his gaze and what it meant, somehow made her hips sway just a little more than usual and she found herself taking care to sashay sexily - or attempt to anyway - along the mall floor. She glanced back at him to see if he had noticed and hoped he had not while secretly hoping he had; but, he was eyeing the displays in stores' showcases, paying no mind to her at all.

Embarrassed by her behaviour, she bit her bottom lip, wondering why she was behaving so indecently today. She should be trying to be his perfect date not get silly, immodest thoughts in her head. She stopped walking and waited for him to draw nearer. He did not seem that interested in the stores, not even bothering to reach out and touch the materials and fabrics of the items on sale, so she would have to try something else.

"There are a lot of things we can do," she told him, as he stood before her. "But please tell me, what do you like, Li-san?"

Normally she would be able to tell what a client wanted by now but his aloof expressions were so unreadable. She was now starting to doubt that he really had been ogling her behind at all.

"This is your element, courtesan," he told her. "You decide what we should do."

"Okay." She tilted her head as she thought. "If you don't mind, we can sit down somewhere and talk. Maybe at a café ?"

Through the transparent boutique window they were standing in front of, Sakura made out a few salesgirls gawping at Syaoran. For some reason, she drifted as close to him as she dared.

"Sure," he said finally.

"I saw on the map that they're on the fifth floor."

Syaoran nodded and they headed back to the elevator. Since she was in front, she reached out to press the button but his finger got there faster and he pushed it instead. She gaped up at him, her finger positioned near his own and he stared down at her, his eyes striking into her soul.

All sound dropped away and if she could trust her eyes, he was looking at her lips. Which only made her fascinated with his well-shaped ones. Never before had she ever thought of a man's lips as being _scrumptious_.

The elevator opened and Syaoran's hand dropped to his side, breaking the moment. They stepped inside, the air crackling with unresolved tension.

As soon as they got off on the fifth level of the mall, a colourful café caught Sakura's eyes and forgetting her preoccupation with Syaoran, she pointed at it, excitedly.

"This one! Can we eat there?"

She had seen a branch of this café before but the prices had kept her at bay. Syaoran said for her to decide so it should not be wrong for her to help him, help her to finally get a chance to eat there. He was regarding the place, a nauseated expression on his face but he nodded.

"Sure."

Sakura knew she should have changed her mind about the excessively girly café and gone somewhere else but she could not bear to. Anyway, if he really did mind she was certain he would say.

They got a secluded table in a corner and ordered brunch which amounted to a wide array of pastries, tea and cake. The lime green kettle was left on the table and Sakura turned over Syaoran's cup and poured his tea, aware that he was following her hand movements raptly. She delved into a ham sandwich with a happy sigh. The bread was out of this world delicious.

"I like it here," said Sakura, captivated by the bright, colourful decor. "The maid uniforms, the decorations, little pink forks... everything. It's so kawaii!"

Syaoran said nothing and she went quiet. Was she making a fool of herself? Sometimes when she was around him, it seemed as though it was so. She would feel immature and ungraceful. But maybe that was just her lack of confidence made evident in the abundance of his own?

The waitress came to check in on them and Sakura was glad to briefly have something else to do besides shrivel up in silence.

"So Li-san," she said, placing a jam tart on her plate. "Tell me about yourself. What are your hobbies?"

Syaoran stared at her with a vacant expression.

"Why do you need to know?"

"We're getting acquainted with each other," said Sakura, smiling at him with deepest encouragement etched in her face.

"We don't need to get acquainted with each other," said Syaoran, and he took a bite out of his sandwich. "This is a one-time thing."

Sakura absentmindedly circled the rim of her teacup with a finger.

"Why is that?"

"I don't do this," said Syaoran, almost like he was reciting a long learned rule. "I don't go out with women like you."

"Women like me?"

"Opportunists."

Sakura frowned. Was this the pleasant experience he was speaking about when he had Satomi convince her to go on a date with him? Name-calling?

"I'm not an opportunist Li-san. If you need company, you call me and for a fee, I give you companionship and entertainment. I'm providing a harmless service."

She bit into her jam tart to distract herself from the awkward silence that followed her words. Syaoran took another bite of his sandwich and chewed it slowly. The way he was watching her, with such a quiet intensity he could shatter glass, Sakura knew something bad was heading her way. She steeled herself, unwilling to cry in front of him again.

"Are you seriously trying to tell me that you never think about catching the affections of some wealthy man and becoming his pretty young thing so you don't have to work another day in your life?"

Sakura's hand paused on its way to her mouth, jam tart hovering in front of her lips. Of all that he had said, her first thought was: _did he just call me pretty_?

"Isn't that what all women in your position want?" asked Syaoran, his tone darkening. "Whether consciously or unconsciously, that's what you want. Whether you admit it or not, that's what you want. An easy life where the only currency you know is a plastic card you swipe."

"I-"

"Or is it that you're the other kind. The kind that wants affiliations with high-ranking officials so you can get a high-paying, high-powered job? Tell me. You must have an end-goal. Women like you tend to be among the most ambitious."

He was speaking quietly for privacy's sake but Syaoran's low tone combined with his words made the past minute seem like a vicious attack on her character. She could not say he was completely wrong. After all, if you met someone really nice, you might daydream about being with him but not seriously. Her father was searching for a husband for her and she knew that he would succeed in time. She never once thought she would be with one of her clients. She knew better.

"There are many reasons people do the things they do," she told him. "Not all of them are malicious Li-san. You seem to look for only the bad."

"Experience tells me to expect it," he said, completely unapologetic.

"Then maybe together we can create more pleasant experiences," she said with a genuine smile.

Syaoran stared at her in disbelief.

"My teachers used to say I have a fiercely optimistic nature," she explained.

"And even that's putting it mildly."

She took a sip of tea.

"I don't think that's a bad thing - though some of them meant it in that way. I like to be cheerful and nothing gives me more joy than to have everyone around me be cheerful and happy too. Normally I can put a smile on anyone's face but with you-"

"Continue," said Syaoran when she paused.

"With you, nothing I say or do does any good," she said. "Because maybe you think I don't really care about you. That the same things I say to you, I say to every other client. But when we're together Li-san, I really am sincere in everything I do and say and I think about only you."

Sakura took another sip of tea as Syaoran curiously studied her. He reached over the table and for a brief moment she thought he was reaching for her but instead, he took up a large plate of croissants.

"You're good," said Syaoran, as he selected one of the pastries and returned the plate to its place, his gaze fixed on her. "I almost believed you."

All the other people in the café were chatting away blissfully and laughing with the people at their table, but her conversation with Syaoran made Sakura feel like she was at a court hearing.

"If you don't like courtesans, Li-san, why did you call for me? Why did you pay so much?"

"You're calling me a hypocrite?"

"No! I -"

Sakura breathed out. He was the one calling himself a hypocrite and trying to make her feel bad about it. But now that she thought of it, _yes_, he was a hypocrite.

"Even my boredom has its limits," he told her. "I had nothing scheduled so I called. It's as simple as that. There's no need to feel special. I only asked for you because of the familiarity factor. I wanted a distraction but I don't like to be surprised. With you, I'm sure of what to expect."

"Well-" Sakura hesitated for a few seconds, swallowing the sting of his words. "Well please tell me how I can best distract you Li-san," she told him brightly. "I would very much like for you to enjoy our time together."

Syaoran, whose gaze was surveying the shop's interior was suddenly directed at her. His forehead creased slightly and he appeared baffled so she was going to repeat herself when his face turned stony, paralyzing her tongue.

He changed moods so quickly.

"With the kind of money you make, it must be easy to be so nice, so thoughtful."

"I'm nice to everyone Li-san."

"But you only date men who can afford your ridiculous rates."

Sakura shook her head.

"That's not true," she told him, leaning over the table. She put a hand to her chest for emphasis. "I would date _you_ for free!"

A hush fell over them.

Sakura's face burned when she realised what she had said. She bit her lip and sat back, heart thumping inside her chest cavity. Knit material had never been as interesting to her as it was at that moment and she picked at her dress, afraid to face him.

But she had to know what was on his mind so she took a glance at him through her bangs. She did a double-take. He was texting on his phone! She sighed. Why did she think Li Syaoran would really care about anything she said? She cut a slice of cake and ate it while he carried on his text conversation. He did not even excuse himself or give her _any_ indication that he remembered she was there and would be back with her shortly.

When he finally put the phone back in his pocket, he looked around at the spread of food items she had ordered. Suddenly, she felt like she had overdone it with the mini pizzas, chocolate chip waffles, blueberry muffins and cinnamon rolls.

"Do you want some?" she asked, holding up a plate with the remainder of the red velvet cake. "I can cut you a slice. The frosting is very delicious."

"I'm not a fan of sweet desserts."

That was it. She knew at once that she should not bother getting him to try it. So, Sakura continued eating her own slice in a fresh batch of silence.

"Are you done?" he asked several minutes later.

"Hai," she said, taking her fork and scraping up some whipped cream from the plate, sucking the utensil dry.

She flushed when she caught Syaoran watching her in a way a man watched a woman when he was thinking something depraved. She should have dropped her fork right then but some force possessed her and she scraped up some more frosting and repeated the movement, her lips suctioned tightly around the hard, pink plastic. Meticulously, she rest down the fork on her plate and patted her lips with a blue napkin.

Syaoran cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

"There's no need to rush," he told her. "You can have another slice if you wish."

"No. That's all right. We can go someplace else now."

The truth was she would like nothing better but she did not want him to think she was a glutton. He already thought she was a gold-digger and a social-ladder-climber. Besides, she would take that debauched gleam in his gaze moments ago as a forewarning to not start things she was not willing to finish.

"Do you want to take the leftovers?" he asked. "There are a lot."

"I guess we shouldn't let them go to waste."

He had the waitress box and bag them for her and he went to the cashier to pay.

"You know," she said, as they walked out of the café, a yellow gift bag of desserts in hand. "I've never been but I've heard that this mall has a rooftop garden. Maybe we can go up on top? See it for the first time together?"

He nodded and once more, they walked towards the elevator.

It was an impressive sight, the rooftop garden. Sakura had to control herself from running around like a little kid. If it were not for the surrounding skyscrapers you would not know that you were standing on top of a building. Roses, tulips and carnations and other flowers she did not recognize surrounded them and the butterflies and small birds they attracted, flew over their heads.

The smell was heavenly too - sweet and crisp, just like the air smelled at dawn in Tomoeda before cars got on the road. She spoke up whenever she found something particularly pretty but Syaoran only gave the tiniest nods in response to whatever she said. There was a faraway air about him and he was definitely ruminating about something. She had to wonder, was he bored with her now?

Instead of deterring her, it only spurred her on and she determinedly kept pointing out all the attractions to him, like the small waterfall fountain, and the chirping birds in the treetops, some of which she could name, and the little nooks here and there for sitting. She was acting like a tour guide but she was becoming even more amazed by the minute of how ethereal everything seemed.

"Hey," said Syaoran, all of a sudden. "You haven't spoken for a while now."

"I haven't?" asked Sakura. "I didn't realise. I guess I was taking in all of this."

She spread her arms wide and planted a huge grin on her face as if to say 'tada!' She chuckled at her own silly antics, thinking to herself that courtesans did not act this way. It was even more noticeable because Syaoran was standing, back straight and proper, his chin tilted up proudly, reminding her that his upbringing was of a different caliber to hers. Self-consciously, she clasped her hands together behind her back and turned from him.

She went over to a white stone bench, aware that Syaoran was following her, watching her intently. When would he get tired of that? It was too much, always having to guess what was going on in that head of his; always feeling that with just one wrong move he would think her a buffoon.

She sat down and crossed her legs at the ankles. He set himself down beside her, hands clasped loosely in front of him. Sakura stared at the good sized gap he left between them. He was so solemn, so unapproachable... if she could get one smile from him, just one, she would consider it a victory.

She knew she would be reaching but she would try. And she could hardly believe what she was about to do.

"Spell silk."

Syaoran's eyes narrowed at the strange request.

"Excuse me?"

"Spell silk," enunciated Sakura.

"Why?"

She slid closer to him.

"Please. Won't you just spell it? For me?" she asked, and she pressed her palms together in front her chest.

Syaoran cast a confused, uncertain look at her.

"All right. S. I. L. K."

"Now say silk five times."

It did not seem like he was going to do it so she leaned in to him.

"Pretty please," she cooed. "With the sweetest sugar on top?"

She smiled and bit her bottom lip in anticipation. He tugged at the neckline of his henley and let out a deep breath.

"Fine," he said, voice unusually constricted. "Silk. Silk silk silk silk."

"And cows drink?"

"Milk."

Sakura threw her head back and burst into laughter. It worked _every_ single time she ever tried it!

"What?" said Syaoran, cocking his head to the side.

Sakura clasped her tummy with her hands, still laughing hard.

"Cows don't drink milk Li-san. I'm pretty sure they drink water."

He froze for a second, realizing his error. His cheeks coloured.

"You tricked me."

"_Me_? How can I trick a big, intelligent businessman like _you_?"

"You women have your ways."

Sakura wiped her teary eyes, still giggling, not taking his dig at womankind seriously. He was just a sore loser, having said milk with such certainty! It was priceless!

When she calmed down, fanning herself with her hand, still giggling intermittently, he rest an elbow on the bench back and angled his body towards her.

"My turn."

She rest her hands on the bench back and placed her chin on her fingers, gazing tenderly at him, face warm from her laughter.

"If a rooster laid an egg on a barn roof," he said, quietly. "Which way would it roll?"

She pouted.

"How am I supposed to know that, Li-san? I don't live on a farm!"

Syaoran waited patiently, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Think about it."

"Ano… I guess, maybe, right?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"No. Left."

He pulled back slightly, appearing just a bit too pleased with himself.

"No. Right," she amended, quickly. "Yes. Right. I'm going with right."

Syaoran thumbed his nose and looked off into the distance.

"Roosters don't lay eggs, courtesan. Hens do."

Her mouth fell open in a loud gasp.

"You fiend!"

The corner of Syaoran's mouth tugged upwards and she grinned wide. She had done it!

"That was a good one, Li-san," she said. "So I guess that means we're even now."

He nodded.

"Thank you," she said, beaming at him.

"For what?"

"Playing along with me."

Syaoran stared intriguingly at her, sweeping her up into his orbit. And Sakura found herself falling into those piercing eyes of his, and right then he did seem like a force of gravity drawing her ever closer. He did not seem as tense as before and she could see a flicker of residual amusement in his face.

"Talk," he demanded.

"Talk?"

"Yes."

"About what?"

"Whatever you like."

"I wouldn't want to bore you."

"So start talking."

"Okay," she said, running around in her mind, looking for something to say. She walked two fingers along the top of the bench. "Well, when I was told I had to come out on a date with you today, I was very, very nervous. And a bit scared. I thought it would be like our last dates."

She glanced at him timidly before she continued. She did not think he wanted to hear this but it was the only thing she could think to say. His gaze was fixed steadfastly on her but he did not appear in any particular mood. He was just listening.

"I felt really bad after them. Because of the things you said. My intention isn't to be an immoral woman, Li-san. I think I'm a good person. I feel so guilty when I tell even the smallest lie. I've thought about all the things you've told me and I suppose from your perspective I can see how I must seem like a bad person. But I don't want to hurt anyone or get things from them. This is just my job. It doesn't define all of me."

Sakura expected him to make a smart comment but he glared out at the buildings in front of them and heaved a breath. Her insides twisted. She had sent him back to that grim place he liked to reside.

"I don't make a habit of speaking to women the way I spoke to you," he said, with a grimace. "Even if they _are_ courtesans."

He gripped his knees and breathed out heavily through his nose.

"You can forget those things I said. All of them. I was too harsh."

Sakura's heart fluttered. Was he apologizing?

"So, you don't really want to buy a night with me then?" she asked.

His eyes snapped to hers. Sakura instantly wanted to curl up under her bed and disappear. _Why_ had she _asked_ that? _Why_?

Syaoran peered down at her bare thighs, making her squirm. One hand, the one nearest to her slid from his knee, onto the bench. His fingertips grazed the stone and she could feel them, as acutely as if they were on her flesh. He laid his fingers flat, almost like a caress, making her mind spin. His eyes moved up her figure and she swore it felt like his hand was on her making its way up her leg, over waist, curving around her breast and settling on her shoulder, leaving a scorching heat in its wake. She parted her lips and squinted, completely dazed and disoriented.

And when he looked into her eyes with unconcealed hunger, she was certain.

He wanted her.

She squeezed her legs together. From anxiety or excitement, it was difficult to tell. She placed a hand over her chest, feeling the deep breaths Syaoran's attention had invoked in her.

His phone must have vibrated, because he dug into his pocket and pulled it out. Putting it to his ear, he stood and walked away, speaking Cantonese. Sakura watched his sturdy, sure movements. Why would he want her of all people? He could probably have any woman he wanted. He would not even have to pay. Was it a conquest thing? An ego thing? Whatever it was, she would be no part of it. She had too much self-respect to give in to him and be his flavour of the week. She bet he was a player. Yes. He must be a player.

He paced by, still talking on the phone. Something about work. Sakura tried not to accidentally eavesdrop - not that she could understand Cantonese when it was spoken that quickly. He sounded so gruff she felt sorry for whoever was enduring that conversation with him.

He paced by again and she reddened as she remembered how his body had felt against hers. It was so confusing, not wanting him to desire her and yet feeling flattered when he suggested that he did. But if he did want her in that way, why was it he had not made a move yet? There had been so many opportunities and he seemed like the 'go get it' type and yet, he kept his distance. Was he toying with her?

When the call ended, he fisted his hands, glowering reflectively at the building opposite. Then he looked down at her and she expected to receive the same cold attention, but his expression was neutral.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"It?"

"What's upsetting you."

A light wind blew his hair across his brows, making Sakura bask in awe of how it softened his striking features.

"No," he told her. Then he added, "I have to leave now."

Sakura checked her watch.

"We still have half an hour left."

"Yes. I can tell time too," he said with acidic ridicule.

She clamped her mouth shut and picked up her bag of desserts. Now that was the Li Syaoran she knew.

He called her a taxi and waited with her on the sidewalk until it arrived. She told him he did not have to wait but he made no reply. He just asked for his aviators, slipped them on and folded his arms. When her taxi pulled up to the curb, she turned to him.

"May I ask you where you're going?" she asked, struggling to see if he was watching her behind his lenses.

"Hong Kong," was the curt response.

She bowed to him.

"I hope you enjoyed today Li-san. Please have a safe flight."

She slipped inside the taxi.

"Good bye," she said, as the driver closed the automatic door.

Syaoran pulled out his wallet and gave the driver enough money for her to go almost anywhere in the city. Did he know that was not required? Bent down as he was, he took one last look at her and she found herself frozen with the force of his gaze. Then without a word, he stood up straight and walked away into the throng of pedestrians. The driver pulled into the oncoming traffic and abruptly, Sakura's heartbeats quickened.

She stood on her knees and gaped out the rear window. She was in time to see Syaoran's back disappearing among the people on the street. When she could no longer decipher his form from all the others, she fell onto the backseat, a most peculiar emotion simmering in her gut.

* * *

A/N

Hey Tomodachi! Li Syaoran. That guy is a piece of work. Maybe he'll get better on date 4. Oops, did I say date _4_? Did I say _better_? ;) Oh and I actually fell for that silk joke once. hehe

So I was thinking if Syaoran's fiancee was gonna be canon or not. But I don't think people will care about her as much if she were an OC so I'm gonna keep it canon. So she, or her voice anyway, will appear in Chapter 8 this week.

Thanks again signed reviewers and thank you anonymous reviewers Reader, SS4ever, Guest, Guuugu, Guest, aisora14, Monstor xo, 3, abcdef, Fan of SS and Guest! Sheesh, guest people, make up a name :P Syaoran would like to know which one of you called him a bastard. The horny bit he could accept. ;)

Hope you all had a good weekend. Read and Review. And Until Next Time, Ja ne! ^_^


	7. Truth-telling to a Damsel in Distress

**Chapter Seven**

**Truth-telling to a Damsel in Distress**

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

Exactly one week after her date with Li Syaoran, Satomi had enthusiastically informed Sakura that he had requested her company again. This time, they were to meet at an amusement park. When she arrived, he was already standing at the entrance, waiting for her, dressed pretty much the same as when they were at the mall, except today he wore a dark-green t-shirt. There was nothing flashy about him at all; nothing to suggest he was anything other than what he seemed - your average, _incredibly hot_ guy next door.

He was on his cell phone, apparently typing a message. However, when she was about ten feet away from him he looked up, almost like he had sensed her presence. Time slowed. Each fierce beat of her heart sent shock waves throughout her body, and it felt like forever had come and gone and she was still walking towards him.

Syaoran's gaze dropped back to his phone, breaking his hold over her. She drew in a deep breath and her depleted lungs thanked her by swelling wide. He pushed his phone deep into his jeans pocket and she ran a hand down the side of her peach silk-chiffon skirt, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles. Again, she had bought something new to try and impress him with and like before, she hoped he would like the way she looked.

As soon as she settled herself in front of him, he spoke.

"You're six minutes late."

His snappish comment momentarily stunned her tongue.

"I- there was a little traffic."

"I don't like tardiness. But today, I don't have anything pressing. So it's fine."

Sakura nodded and bowed her head, thinking to herself, if it was fine, why did he have to mention it? If they had met before she had worked as a courtesan, he would definitely be frustrated with her because she had always been chronically late. That happened when you liked to sleep a lot.

To her dismay, by the time she realised he was looking her over, he was already done and nothing about his expression suggested that she had wowed him. All the anticipation she had built up inside her deflated and she followed him past the large iron gates, reprimanding herself for wasting time trying on that other shoe before she left her apartment.

"Did you have a good time in Hong Kong, Li-san?" she asked as they walked by a roller coaster. There was a chorus of excited and terrified screams and he glanced up at it.

"I got what I needed done, if that's what you mean."

It was not what she meant but she would accept that answer. She was probably lucky he had replied at all.

"Is Hong Kong where you're from?" she asked.

"Yes."

"But you work in Japan?"

"Every so often."

"It must be tough working far away from home."

"Not really."

"But you must miss your family. And they must miss you."

"There are a lot of women in my family," said Syaoran. "Getting away from them keeps me sane."

Sakura giggled. Stopped. Then giggled again, giving her head a disbelieving shake.

"What?" asked Syaoran, eyeing her with suspicion.

"It's funny," said Sakura, face bright. "You're trying to get away from women but you're out with me."

"That's different," he told her.

"How?"

"I choose to be around you. I select the exact place and time. After a few hours I get to say goodbye forever, unless I want to see you again. You could say, I take you in very small doses."

"Oh."

From what Satomi had once said to her, men liked to lose themselves in the fantasy of going out with good-looking and intelligent women who were there to live for them for whatever length of time they bought. But Li Syaoran was not like that. He remained very conscious that she was a courtesan and that he was paying her to be out with him. Why was it so hard for him to relax and enjoy their time together? Did a courtesan hurt him in the past? Looking at him, she could not believe that there was a person alive capable of doing such a thing. He may very well be made of steel.

Then something occurred to her.

"I thought you said that you wouldn't send for me again?" she asked him. "That our last date was a one-time thing?"

Syaoran cast a sideways glance at her again. Aloof. Unreadable.

"The last time I had to leave early," he stated. "Technically, this is the continuation of that meeting."

Sakura did not feel that way. She felt it was a new date with a fresh set of three hours but she did not say so. Nor did she tell him that a true continuation of their date would be only thirty minutes long. She had to suspect that he had truly wanted to come out with her again or he would not have. That must mean she was winning him over in some way, right? Maybe he was realizing that courtesans were not as bad as he believed?

This must be true because he was more pleasant to her that day than he had ever been despite his rude greeting. He offered to buy her cotton candy and did so when she accepted, he walked in front of her in crowded areas, paid for her to play several games and even won a shooting game himself, winning her a teddy bear.

"Arigatou gozaimasu," she said, hugging the brown medium-sized bear to her. "I love teddies. Actually, any kind of stuffed animal toys. Oh and you're a really good shot, Li-san. I rarely win anything from that kind of game. How did you do it?"

Syaoran stood, hands in his pockets, and peered down at her for a moment, probably trying to detect if she really meant what she had told him. Plastering a wide, radiant smile on her face she waited for him to speak.

"Like a real gun," he explained. "It's all about grip, breath control, stance."

"You've shot real guns before?" she asked him, awed.

"Yes. I learned at the gun range when I was young."

"And you did this... _for fun_?"

"Yes."

"So you own a gun?"

"No."

Sakura breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Good. Because real guns are dangerous, you know."

There was a flash of amusement in his eyes.

"Yes. Real guns are dangerous."

He ruffled the hair at the back of his head as he gazed around at the other booths and stalls, teeming with patrons. Sakura's eyes grew round. A clown ahead of them was juggling several bowling balls while standing on one leg. It was amazing, the skills people possessed. It was nice that there was always someplace to put those skills to use. Yet she was still trying to figure out what her talents were.

"Do you want to go on a ride now?" Syaoran asked her, yanking her out of her musings.

She looked around. Hordes of people were queued in front of various rides. By the time they got on one ride, their date would be over. She ran a finger across her lips as she thought.

"The lines are very long."

"It doesn't matter," said Syaoran. "Pick one."

"The ferris wheel is my favourite," she told him.

She half-expected him to pull some rich person stunt and buy his way to the front of the line but Syaoran headed off to buy the tickets at the ticket booth. Then he patiently waited with her for - and she winced - _twenty_ whole minutes until it was their turn. The conductor helped her into one of the cars. Syaoran climbed in after her and sat on the opposite seat. When the door shut, a deafening silence fell over them.

Sakura shifted uneasily, suddenly aware that she was locked in there with Syaoran for the next fifteen minutes or so. He wasted no time in taking up his leisurely pursuit. His eyes were already caressing her with impunity. The self-assurance in his posture and the simmering heat in his eyes made the pores on her arms raise. He was thinking _something_ and from the way his lips kept tugging at the sides, he was relishing it immensely. Her entire body flushed and as she glanced out their car, she ever so subtly rubbed her thighs together, an irrational bout of excitement rising in her.

"You know, Li-san," she said, playing with the teddy bear on her lap to purify her senses. "You surprise me with your choice of venue. You did last time as well. You don't seem like the type of person who enjoys malls or amusement parks."

"I'm not," said Syaoran, his concentrated stare following the movement of her ankles uncrossing and crossing each other. "But if I took you to some place I would normally take a date, I'll run into people I don't want to run into when I'm with you."

There was a sick feeling in Sakura's stomach. Was he ashamed to be seen with her? He may have read her mind because he leaned forward and said, "It's not because you're a courtesan. Didn't I tell you not to feel special?"

She fiddled with the teddy bear's round ears. She knew she was not the best looking courtesan around but she cleaned up well and she felt she looked cute in her skirt today. She was always on her best behaviour too.

"Then why don't you want to be seen with me?" she ventured to ask. "I assure you Li-san, I wouldn't embarrass you in front of your colleagues or friends."

He leaned back in his seat.

"I don't like people knowing much about my private life so I prefer to keep our meetings to myself."

"Okay."

It was strange to hear him say she was a part of his private life but it was flattering all the same.

"Meaning, Eriol and Takashi don't need to know about this," said Syaoran, his face solemn.

They fell into a semi-awkward silence. The ferris wheel began it's first rotation and Sakura rest her teddy bear down and walked over to one of the transparent sides of the car. Every now and then the wheel would stop so that the passengers could enjoy the view. She got so caught up looking at the lush green mountaintops in the distance and the sense of nostalgia they brought, she almost forgot that Syaoran was there. That is, until he came to stand beside her, his ever-watchful eyes on her instead of the breathtaking scenery outside.

"Courtesan," he said, to get her attention.

_Like he had to go through the trouble._

As soon as he moved from the car bench, he had her attention.

"You're not entertaining me."

Why did she have to flush every time his eyes bore into her own? Why did he always have to make her feel totally bare to him? Sakura was sure she could be wearing a dozen fur coats and she would still feel that way.

"I…" She took a deep breath. "I was just thinking."

"About what."

"I guess my life," she told him, half watching the view of the park below them. "I remember in high school, I would go out with my friends to the park sometimes. Ride on the ferris wheel and look out at the world like I'm doing now. Back then, to me, everything seemed possible. The freedom I would get by becoming eighteen, the choices, they were all so exciting then."

Syaoran leaned his back against the transparent side of the car and folded his arms, his gaze still fixed on her.

"And now?" he asked her, when she did not continue her contemplation straightaway.

She absentmindedly drew hearts with her finger on the side of the car, right between her and Syaoran.

"Now, sometimes, I feel like I don't even know who I am. What I want. The choices are so many, I can't decide on any one. This freedom I have almost feels like a burden. I hold and tell myself all the time that everything is going to be all right but I think, what I really need sometimes is..."

She touched her forehead to the car, a heaviness in her heart and mind.

"I think what I need is for someone else to hold me. Tell me the same thing. Maybe then I'll really believe my words. 'The real world' as they always called it in school is actually a lot scarier than I imagined. But I think, that if I stay cheery and positive then good things will happen. Because we get from the world what we put in right?"

She looked up at Syaoran. There was the slightest frown between his brows and she realised her mistake.

"I'm sorry Li-san. I know you don't want to hear these depressing things. They've just been floating around in my head and when you asked, I answered honestly."

He nodded.

"I suppose you have everything you could ever want," said Sakura. "I can tell that you're a very strong person. You're probably not afraid of anything."

They were at the top level of the ferris wheel and he glanced down through the corner of his eyes.

"When I was ten, I feared heights."

She gasped.

"I'm sorry! If I had known, I wouldn't have chosen the ferris wheel!"

"I said when I was ten," he repeated. "They don't bother me anymore."

Sakura clasped her hands behind her back.

"They say people who fear heights are really afraid of falling."

"So I've heard."

Twisting her hips so she could feel the soft flow of chiffon around her legs, Sakura proclaimed, "Someday, I'll be fearless. And strong. And I'll be one of the happiest persons in the world."

"How are you going to do that?" asked Syaoran.

"You really want to know?"

"Yes."

"Well," said Sakura, almost like she and Syaoran were conspiring. "I'm going to figure out what I want to do in life. Beyond being a courtesan, that is. And fingers crossed, I'm going to get married to the most wonderful man on Earth. But I don't expect to marry a client, Li-san" she added quickly.

"All I want is a regular nice guy. One's who's kind and smart and supportive. For my father's sake, he has to have a good job. But I don't care about that. As long as he loves me unconditionally, I'll be glad."

Syaoran gave her a skeptical look and she clamped her hands over her hot face and giggled.

"_I'm serious._ I'm such a romantic. And I know I should be logical too but I can't help myself."

Trying to suppress the huge grin on her face Sakura looked out at the tall buildings in the distance, her cheeks ablaze. She was starting to lose herself in thoughts about the future once more when Syaoran asked her a question.

"What's your name?"

She turned to him with disappointment. He had forgotten?

"Ayame. Sakamoto Ayame."

Syaoran shook his head.

"Your real name. I know that one's a fake."

"I can't tell you my real name," said Sakura, averting her eyes so she did not have to look at his displeased scowl. "I'm not supposed to. You'll know who I am."

The strength of Syaoran's stare intensified tenfold.

"You know who _I_ am."

"It's not the same," Sakura insisted. "I signed non-disclosure contracts. I'll be in big trouble if I told someone I went out with you."

He raked his fingers through his hair.

"I understand. You want confidentiality. But if you do tell me, no one but us will ever know," he assured her.

And his voice was so rich, so subliminally seductive that Sakura almost spilled her soul to him.

"I won't tell anyone," he stressed. "I give you my word."

Sakura's heart thumped faster and faster. She could feel his will seeping into her. This was someone who got what he wanted but she was too afraid to reveal herself to him. To give in. Right then, anyway.

"I can't Li-san," she managed to say, her throat dry.

"What would it take to persuade you otherwise?"

He meant money and Sakura was insulted that he kept on insinuating that he could buy things from her that she was not selling.

"I can't," was her firm answer. Then like the coward she remembered she was, she added, "Satomi-san will be mad."

She returned to her seat, her legs turning to jello under Syaoran's hard glare. She put her teddy bear on her lap and decidedly stared at it. She wanted to tell Syaoran her name on one hand because in some silly way, she had to wonder if he liked her just a little. Why else would he care what her real name was? No other client had asked that before. But on the other hand, something deep inside warned her about him.

It could be Kazumi's voice. The girl had told her on the drive home after chaperoning her on her first date, that super rich men did not get that way by accident. They were persuasive, ruthless and selfish and they always had to get what they wanted no matter what it took or who got hurt in the process. _Do not fall for one_, she had said. _And if you do, never let him know how much you care. He will use it and h__e will ruin you_.

She felt Syaoran's footsteps resound in her chest as he moved back to the seat opposite. His gaze was fixed outside and he, without a doubt , was not happy. The remainder of the ride was unbearably long for Sakura. Many times she wanted to say she was sorry that she could not tell him what he wanted to hear but she doubted that he would care for an apology without her disclosing her name after it.

A few minutes later the ride came to an end and they went over to a botanical garden. Sakura kept checking for any signs that Syaoran was open to conversation but his staid demeanour was not handing out any invitations.

When he veered off the paved path, she followed.

"Do you know where you're going?" she asked, suddenly remembering the story of Little Red Riding Hood.

"I'll be able to find my way back, _courtesan_," said Syaoran, without so much as a reassuring glance back at her.

The way he said courtesan made it clear that he was still cross that she did not tell him her name. Sakura wished he could put it behind him the same way he had told her to put the terrible things he had said to her out of her mind.

The terrain of the woods was starting to become more rugged and it made Sakura's strides unstable even though her heels were not too thin or too high. Men never took such things into consideration yet, perhaps she should have said something earlier. Maybe Syaoran would have stayed on the flat pathway.

Ahead of her, he was moving steadily forward almost like he meant to leave her behind. She delved deep in her thoughts, wondering how she could get him to smile. Should she try another riddle? She was trying to remembering a good one when her shoes slid against a fallen twig. She came crashing down to the ground, butt first.

"Hoe..." she moaned, eyes shut tight.

The stones on the ground bit into her tender behind and her palm that had shot out to brace her, was grazed by sharp pebbles. She brought it up to eye-level. Thankfully it was only bruised and she did not get any cuts. Amazingly, she was still clutching tight to her teddy bear. She was about to begin her embarrassing journey upwards when she heard dry, fallen foliage crunching beneath feet. Syaoran's shoes came into view and she bowed her head. She had finally done it. She had finally made a fool of herself. And he had not even been watching her that time.

A palm appeared in front of her and she followed its origin, up a lean arm to find Syaoran watching her expectantly. She looked at his hand again and light seemed to emanate from it, beckoning. Was he really offering to help her up? Was she really going to touch him? The way he presented himself, cool and distant, it felt like an honour to do so.

Tentatively, she reached out, her heartbeats hammering in her ears. Her fingers hovered over his and she did not know why she suddenly felt scared to feel him. Even he had an air of apprehension about him, like he wanted to help her but at the same time, preferred she get up on her own. Which should it be?

Biting her bottom lip, she touched her fingertips to his and the shock was so severe, she flinched. She heard Syaoran draw in a sharp breath and when she gazed up at him, his head was angled back, warily. Yet, his hand never faltered. Squeezing the teddy bear tighter to her, Sakura very gently rest her fingers against his.

She shuddered. His thumb, slightly rough, slid with tormenting slowness up the back of her hand as his long fingers enveloped her in a warm, secure hold. For a crazy moment she thought that like Eriol, he would kiss her on it. Instead he stepped back, pulling her to her feet. Sakura, looking at her hand laying in his, reddened.

"Arigatou," she murmured.

She expected him to release her but he peered down at her shoes.

"There's a clearing up ahead," he said, and he started walking, still holding onto her, though a bit lighter this time.

Her legs were a bit shaky from her fall and every time she stumbled, Syaoran would grip her hand tighter before loosening his grip again. It steadied her physically but inside, she was tumbling all over herself. He's a client, she shouted in her mind, he's a client! He gazed at her through the corner of his eye just as she looked up at him. She glanced away but when she looked back, she discovered that his gaze had not wavered.

Goodness gracious. She was staring at his lips. And her insides were flipping. And her heart was skipping beats. Eriol had said he was a good guy. But Eriol could be wrong. _But_ _oh_, if he was right it would be so amaz - _client_, she repeated to herself. He was a client. And strong, rude, silent types were not attractive to her at all. But he had apologized. _Oh, Kinomoto Sakura, stop it_.

As Syaoran had said, they eventually came upon a clearing. The only sounds Sakura could hear besides the sounds they made were that of critters on the ground and birds fluttering in the tree-tops.

"It's quiet."

"I like quiet," said Syaoran. "There's too many people in the park today."

"Well it's a Sunday."

She unconsciously sidled up to him.

"I'm having a good time anyway," she said. "I hope you are too."

She smiled wide and he came to an abrupt stop. Suddenly, her hand felt bare as his fingers released her. He stalked over to a pine tree and stood against it, brows furrowed.

"What is it?" she asked.

The leaves above their heads rustled in a passing wind and some golden ones drifted down around them. She squinted up at the soft sunlight, playing prettily through the branches of the trees.

"Why are you doing this?" asked Syaoran.

Sakura tilted her head in question not quite understanding.

"Being a companion, as you say," said Syaoran. "Why do you do it?

Sakura ambled away, taking in the sight of the thriving woods. Was he going to be mean to her now? It hurt because she thought they were getting on good terms. It was mind-boggling how he pulled and pushed her with such ease and still she wanted more - to see the side of him Eriol mentioned.

"It's my job," she told him, just loud enough to be heard.

"There are other jobs," he said to her. "Why did you choose this one?"

Sakura pressed her hand against a tree, feeling the jagged bark beneath her fingers.

"It pays well." She shrugged. "I'm not really talented at anything and it's not too difficult for me. It allows me to meet all kinds of interesting people, and dress up, and go to nice places... but I'm not going to do it forever, you know. When I get enough money I- "

She paused, alarmed at how much of herself she was revealing to Syaoran. Her hopes, her dreams... it was all too much.

"What do you need money for?" he asked.

Sakura sighed, feeling a headache coming on from out of nowhere.

"Why are we always discussing money Li-san?" she asked, a pained smile on her face.

He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, retreating a little.

He took a few steps towards her and her bones turned to stone.

"You're naive," he told her. "Even after you get whatever money you need, you're not going to stop."

"How do you know?"

"I told you courtesan, I know all about women like you. I've been around you my entire life. When you're old and can't keep up with the younger ones any longer you'll be cast aside. But you don't quit. Not on your own. It's becomes too addictive."

Sakura's lips trembled.

"I... What does it matter to you? You're always looking down your nose at me Li-san but I'm not hurting anyone. So I let them touch me, kiss me sometimes but it's all harmless. And I-"

Syaoran was looking at her piercingly, his expression alternating between one of disgust and confusion. He moved so close to her that she saw her face reflected in his brown eyes and smelled that delightful cologne he wore.

"Where?" he asked her, hands held stiffly at his side.

"Nani?" asked Sakura, her braining slowing to a crawl.

"They kiss you where?"

Overwhelmed by his presence, she looked away.

"...you know."

Syaoran shook his head.

"My cheeks," said Sakura, thinking to herself that his line of questioning and her answering him was a bit abnormal.

"Only?"

"Little pecks on my lips sometimes."

Syaoran averted his eyes sharply, and a split second later, they was back on her.

"But you're only for platonic -" He paused, devouring her frame with his eyes and finally, she got the assurance that she did look good that day. "You didn't tell me kissing was allowed."

"You didn't ask about kissing. Besides, you said you didn't care about the agency's rules."

Syaoran stared in surprise. Her words had obviously caught him off guard but he was quickly recovering. That predatory gleam was in his eyes and he advanced on her. She stepped back as he continued to step forward, until her back bumped against a tree.

Syaoran's hand inched towards her face, passed tantalizingly close to the curve of her chin before falling back to his side. Her scalp prickled and she wondered what magic he was emanating to cause her body to react this way.

"Where do they touch you?" he asked her.

Sakura blushed but kept her mouth firmly shut. She had never been asked that directly. Usually, it was one tentative touch followed by many other tentative, 'accidental' touches that she pretended she had not noticed.

"Li-san…"

"I want to know," said Syaoran, looking deep into her eyes, his own pupils dilated so much, his eyes appeared black. "Tell me."

He adjusted his position and she had to press her back into the tree trunk to keep a sliver of space between them. The poor teddy was squashed against her chest as she clutched it tight.

"Normal places," she said, her heart racing like a wild horse.

Syaoran's head was angled downwards and his eyes were so captivating and his scent so intoxicating that even though her body was saying no, her neck was stretching up, exposing her lips to his.

"Like?" he asked, voice becoming husky.

"I... it's... girlfriend-boyfriend touching..."

"That could mean a host of things. Be _specific_."

Sakura swallowed. Each word coming out of his mouth though normal enough, sounded so lewd, so licentious, she felt beads of sweat gathering in the valley of her breasts which were heaving with each breath she took. And even though he was not physically restraining her, Syaoran's aura had her pinned down so securely, that despite her undeniable attraction to him, she was beginning to panic.

"Li-san, can you step back a little? Please?"

His head dipped but he wrenched it back.

He turned and walked away, fingers flexing. Then shockingly, he came back to her and he held out his hand.

"Let's head back."

When she timidly took his hand, he closed his fingers over hers and squeezed. Her hand shook as his trembled but in a matter of seconds it had finished and his hold was steady once more. Gently, he drew her along as they walked back the way they came.

When they reached the stone path they had deviated from earlier, Syaoran came to a stop and released her. Staring straight ahead of them at the soaring roller coaster in the distance, he said, "You realise those touches you mentioned are going to turn into something more. Right?"

Sakura sighed.

"I don't _do_ that Li-san."

"Matsushita won't put that offer on her website and you say you don't do that," he said, like he had not heard her just now. "But you must be aware that the other girls do."

Sakura made no indication that he was right and that indeed, she did know. She had found out some time now.

"Yet I still have to pay a lot to see you. What makes you so special, that you command the price of a woman who would see to my every twisted need? Have you thought about that?" He looked at Sakura, flush in the face and she reddened. "After all, you're new to this and it's excruciatingly obvious."

"I try," said Sakura, defensively. "I know I'm not perfect yet but-"

"You're a virgin."

Sakura recoiled like she had been lashed with a bullwhip. Her cheeks were on fire and steam was flying out of her ears but Syaoran's grim expression had not changed.

"That too is obvious to me now," he continued, and he watched her seriously. "It explains many things. Men, particularly older men, don't mind you not being perfect because being with someone pure is enticing to them. Exotic, even. Matsushita knows that. You really think it wise to be entertaining men, when you've never even been with one?"

He waited for a response but Sakura could not form a coherent sentence right then. How could he talk about others' sex lives or lack of them, so calm and collected? Like it was his business?

"I assume by your silence that you really are a virgin. You do know what men want from you? Doesn't it bother you to have so much attention from so many men focused on that one thing?"

Sakura's heart was hammering so hard the force of the blood gushing through her veins made her ears hurt and her vision blur. Sometimes, she did get scared being out on her own with strange men but she would not admit that to Syaoran. Not when he had such a superior air about him.

"I don't see why I can't go out with them," she mumbled. "They're all mostly gentlemen and they've never said they wanted-"

"You don't know how these things work so let me enlighten you, courtesan," he said, with a hint of mocking. "Matsushita's dangling you in front of men who for whatever reasons enjoy the company of less experienced females. That's why she has you doing these little girlfriend-type dates. When enough men show interest in you, she'll start a bid and the highest bidder wins. You. Alone in a hotel room for three days or so. And bear in mind, when you sell yourself, enjoying it is a privilege you won't get."

Sakura's chest was tightening. Here he was again, judging her. Being a know-it-all. But this was one blow too many, and maybe that was because she did wonder late in the night if Satomi was as nice as she portrayed herself to be. She did not want to hear sense from this man though.

"I'm not a prostitute!"

He raised an eyebrow.

"No. Not yet. But when a million dollars is laid out in front of you, we'll see."

Her eyes burned as they filled with tears. She sniffed and looked about her. A few people walked by on the path and she did not speak until they were out of earshot.

"I'm not the kind of girl you think I am Li-san."

"I think you're exactly that kind," said Syaoran. "Too ignorant to see when you're being taken advantage of."

"I'm not!" said Sakura. Some girls did things with their clients but Satomi never said it was required. If they wanted to do so, it was their choice. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

"So you _want_ to be auctioned off to the highest bidder despite all your talk about me only being able to buy your time."

"Satomi-san would never do that to me. _I_ will never do that."

"That's what you all say but your actions always contradict. And don't for a second believe, _she_ has not done this before. The woman is notorious for her virgin auctions. She calls them her Cherry Deals."

Sakura bit down on her teeth. How was he so certain? His confident words were making her dizzy. Was he right? He could not be right. She was not for sale. Dazed, she checked her watch. Overjoyed, she saw that it was time for her to leave. Syaoran saw her eyes on the time and his face hardened.

"I'll walk you out," he said before she could tell him that time was up.

He did not say another word to her nor she to him as he led her out of the amusement park's gates and that was one silence Sakura did not mind at all.**  
**

* * *

A/N

Hey Tomodachi! I got really busy this week but I wrote chapter eight (roughly) so it will be out in a jiffy. Thank you again signed reviewers and anonymous reviewers Guest, Reader, Yuki, abcdef, Chiyokira, Monster xo, aisora14 (Syaoran is in pure Lust Mode. He really doesn't care about Sakura but I think in this chapter, he's seeing her as a real person for the first time. But still, not much there yet but when he starts to really like her you'll know ^_^. Another smart alec reviewer I see, calling out the lust not love thing :P lol), and thank you too, Guest and SS fan. And those who favourited the fic, thank you as well.

Have no fear, Syaoran's POV next chapter and you'll know how he found his dates went. wink.

Read and Review. And Until Next Time, Ja ne! ^_^


	8. Fighting a Losing Battle

**Chapter Eight**

**Fighting a Losing Battle**

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

There was a neat stack of folders on Syaoran's spotless glass desk but he had paid them no mind. Instead his executive chair was turned towards the grand view of Tokyo city. But not even that, a view many managers and CEOs would give their souls to obtain was able to peak Syaoran's interest. Instead he was slumped in his executive chair, elbow on the handle, cheek resting against the back of his fingers. He stared unseeingly into the distance.

Gripping his knee tight, he ground his teeth together. It was after ten in the morning. He should be deep in work, making calls, answering them, _something. _But here he was, feeling a disturbingly scorching heat in his nether regions that refused to go away. He slid lower down in his seat, making a fist with the hand resting against his cheek. His nails dug into his palm but he felt nothing.

It did not matter what he was doing - having a shower, eating lunch, in a meeting, sleeping - thoughts of the courtesan would enter his mind and it was fucking irritating beyond belief. It really was out of hand now. And it was not only that. It was the way she always came to him too. Naked, exceptionally willing, and wet. _Very wet_. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Get a _grip_, Xiao Lang," he muttered to himself.

He could typically control slipping his hand in his pants and yet, that girl's appearance in his life had already made him succumb to his sordid urges. Several times. _And it was not enough_. That time at the mall, in the elevator, he had just wanted to bend her over and rip her panties down. Take her there and then. He inhaled deeply as he recalled the feel of her, warm against his chest. Her butt was almost sitting directly on his crotch and little bursts of fireworks had been erupting in his jeans the entire time. It had taken all his strength to stop himself from going full on hard and not have her feel it. Now that would have been humiliating, acting like a dog in heat. Lucky for them both, there had been kids in that elevator and that had quenched his dirty thoughts somewhat.

If only the thoughts had ended there. If only.

When he had put her in the car he had intended to go straight to his jet but no, he had driven back to his apartment. For privacy and comfort. Just to rub a good one out. Unsurprisingly, one turned into two. With her profile page open of course. It did not take long for her to materialize on his bed, have him pull her up by the hips and drill into her from behind. Fuck. He did things to her in his head he would never speak out loud. Do in real life. Unless she wanted it. Maybe. He could. Yank on her hair. A little? A lot? Hard? He slammed a fist down on his knee. When had he become such a damn macho dominant pervert? Well in bed he did have that controlling tendency at times... The way she had sucked that fork though. He twisted in his seat. He could easily envision something else in its place and that was one time he would let her take charge.

He released a frustrated breath.

_Real guns are dangerous._

_**She** _was the dangerous one. Working him up like she was doing. Then she had to tell him about how other men had kissed her and felt her up. The pricks, no pun intended. Yes, though he had no good reason for it, he was upset that they were kissing and touching her. And that may have been part of the reason he had given her the talking he had. Scaring her out of her profession with the truth was not a bad idea, was it? Once he had realised she was not pretending to be completely guileless he had felt revolted. She was in way over her head and Matsushita Satomi was shamelessly using her.

Syaoran opened his eyes and pursed his lips. That girl... stubborn and clueless. Where were her parents? Who would release a child like that into the world? She was a danger not just to him but to herself. She wore her heart on her sleeve and spewed out her feelings like they were poison and she needed it out of her system. And what kind of person became an escort, _Matsushita's courtesan no less,_ and thought that they would never have to fuck someone? That would be like a vegetarian working in a bar-b-que joint and never expecting to smell charred chicken. That girl must be the most unbelievable person he had come across yet and he would say she must be mentally ill but he did not want to offend those people. Even within the worse cases you could find a shred of common sense. _Some_ logic.

"Li-sama, Hiiragizawa-sama is on the line for you," came the voice of his assistant, Hu Ming.

He pressed the button on the intercom.

"Tell him that unless it's a matter of importance, stop calling me."

"Ah..."

Syaoran did not bother to say anything else. She would think of some excuse to say which Eriol would not believe and then the man would come to his office anyway.

"Li-sama, Daidouji Tomoyo is on the line. She-"

Syaoran pressed the intercom button again.

"Tell her for the last time that I do not know the girl's number. Perhaps she should try Yamada Shoji - the girl's date."

A pause.

"Sir she said she tried but-"

"Am I a phone directory, Hu?"

"No Sir. I apologize Sir."

Ever since the party Tomoyo had been trying to get in contact with the courtesan. He only prayed she did not meet up with Eriol who would gladly spill the agency's number to her. He did not have to worry about Yamazaki spilling it because he would have to explain to Chiharu why he knew it in the first place. Syaoran smirked. That would be an interesting show.

He turned back around to his view of the cityscape.

He had touched her. The courtesan. Finally. She had looked so comical when she had fallen, pouting and clutching that teddy bear he had gotten her like it was a life raft. He had waited but she did not seem capable of getting up on her own. So he had offered his hand. Syaoran ran his thumb over the tips of his fingers. Her skin had been silk. Her hand, slender and gentle but she had a firm grip. She had kept on leaning into him whenever she had been about to lose her balance and he kind of liked that tingling pressure against him - one that let him know she needed him and could not do something as simple as walking without him helping her.

Syaoran draped one hand lightly over his crotch, feeling himself lengthening in anticipation. He had almost kissed her. He had wanted to so badly when he found out he could, that others had beaten him to it. Would she mind if he kissed her? Had Shoji kissed her that night of the fundraiser? Syaoran glared out at the communications centre in the distance, feeling like someone had broken his favourite toy. Bastard probably had.

He gently sucked on his bottom lip, imagining it was hers. When he got to taste those lips, he was going to suck all the flavour from them and keep on sucking. At the park, she had worn this cute, sky-blue blouse and he may have taken a peek or two down the buttons. Two eye-catching, smooth globes resided beneath them and when he got the chance, he would suck those too. As he was fantasizing about unwrapping her like a birthday present, then wrapping her legs around his waist so he could go deeper, he caught himself. _When_? Was he planning something here? In his mind, his fantasy was still playing out and she moaned his name while touching herself. He almost locked his office door right then to get in round two for the morning.

"Li-sama -"

"WHAT."

He did not press the button on the intercom but his voice carried to the poor woman outside his obscenely large office.

"Your-mother-is-on-line-five," rushed Ming.

Instantly, he swivelled around in his chair and grabbed the phone. Clearing his throat of all its huskiness, he pressed the button to accept the call.

"Mother."

"Xiao Lang," she said. "What is happening with the Yano Corporation?"

"They rejected my offer," he answered, a bolt of indignation stabbing him in the side. "They think I'm undervaluing the company."

"How much did you offer them?"

"Eight hundred and seventy million."

"And they said _no_?" Syaoran could picture his mother fuming in that brooding, silent way of hers. "How much do they think they're worth?"

"I didn't ask," he told her. He had felt too insulted. "I have already begun rounding up a few disgruntled, overly ambitious shareholders. I believe they can be swayed to replace the current board."

"How many votes do you need?"

"Fourteen. As of yesterday, I have two. Eriol is attempting to acquire number three as we speak."

Or so he would like to think.

"Who are they?"

Syaoran went on to tell her a few details of the takeover he was coordinating with Eriol who was working as his partner. A takeover was always challenging but they had done it before. It just took time. He was grateful for his mother's micro-managing call for once in his life though. At least her voice cast the courtesan from the forefront of his mind for ten or so minutes. Or maybe not. Because he had just thought about _not_ thinking about her.

"Very well. Keep me updated on the proceedings."

"Yes Mother."

There was a familiar voice talking to her on the other side of the phone and Syaoran knew what was coming. Three... Two... One.

"Meilin would like to speak with you," said his mother. "Hold for her."

Seconds later, "Xiao Lang, I miss you! When are you coming home?"

"I was just there last week," he told her. "It's not my fault you were - _where_ were you, exactly?"

"I told you, Milan. I had that D&amp;G perfume campaign to do."

"Right."

"It was all tasteful," she said, before he had a chance to ask. "The commercial, photos, everything. I didn't wear anything revealing. Nothing strange either. It was a 50's vintage theme. Everything was very glamorous and _proper_."

There was a long pause and Syaoran half-smiled knowingly.

"Stop staring at it."

"How did you know I was staring at it?" laughed Meilin. She gave a dramatic sigh."It's so beautiful Xiao Lang. I need to show it off to the world! When are we going public with the engagement? We'll be married and people won't even know we were engaged if it's left up to you."

"We'll announce it soon," he said.

Though he did not see why it was anyone else's business but theirs and their family.

"Soon... like?"

Syaoran gave his head a shake. Predictably impatient, as always.

"The next time I come back to Hong Kong, we'll discuss it."

"When will that be?"

"Meilin..."

"Okay okay," she said. "Fine. I can't believe that after all these years we're finally going to get married!"

Then she gave a long, high-pitched scream. Syaoran pulled the phone from his ear, staring at it like it had started talking to him. What the hell? That ring had made her crazier than usual. He did not think that was possible. She usually wore a family heirloom on her left middle finger and no one was none-the-wiser. But seeing as they were getting married in a few months, he had decided to get her something himself a month ago. Which meant he had given the job to Chiharu and Tomoyo to pick out a few rings and bring them for him to choose one. What? It was far too confusing with all the sizes and colours and styles available. That arena was no place for a man.

"Sorry, Aunt Yelan!" Meilin said sheepishly. "Xiao Lang? Are you there?"

He brought the phone back to his ear.

"Yes. How could you not believe it though? You've been planning the wedding for over a year now."

"I know but with the ring, it feels more official."

"Official. Haven't you always been my wife since you cornered me in the tree-house when I was five? Told me to marry you or else?" He paused when she laughed. He shook his head. "This upcoming marriage is just a legal formality compared to that. The wedding, an unnecessary luxury. Are you sure you don't want to elope and say our vows tomorrow? It'll be less stressful for you. And quick."

"You're joking right?"

"If I said no, would you?"

"Sometimes I question if there is one romantic bone in your body. Don't you want me to have my dream wedding?"

"I do want that," said Syaoran. "But I also want the planning to be over. You increase the guest list everyday. It's taking far too long."

He hated leaving things unfinished and when he had decided it was about time for them to tie the knot he really thought Meilin would have lunged at the opportunity and gotten married within the week. But she had turned into one of those bride monsters and had to have the biggest, best and most expensive of everything. He would have no problem with that if she had a discernible timeline.

"I already sent out the invitations, fun-sucker," said Meilin, haughtily. "The guest list is complete. No more additions."

"We'll see what you say next week."

"Whatever Xiao Lang," she said. "You just remember to go to Tomoyo for your tuxedo fitting. Wait. Do you have some time now? I wanted your opinion on where we should honeymoon."

"Meilin, I have to get back to work," said Syaoran not wanting to endure wedding discussions and in any case, he would vacation anywhere she wanted so his opinion was not needed. "I have several dozen calls to make."

_Calls you haven't made all morning because you've been thinking about her_, reminded his conscience.

_Not now please_, he begged it.

_Please? Since when do you say please?_

"Sheesh. You act like you have five dollars in the bank and can't make your rent. Do you really have to work all the time," said Meilin but he knew she had learnt that when he said he needed to work, he needed to work. "Anyway, I'm having brunch with Sheifa and Feimei later. I'll tell them, little brother says hi."

"Sure."

"I'll talk to you soon. Love you. Bye."

"Goodbye Meilin," he said through clenched teeth, forcefully willing a certain someone to stay out of his mind for a few more seconds.

"Call me tonight?"

"I will."

He put down the receiver and sighed in relief. Now what was he supposed to be doing?

_Fucking the courtesan._

He opened the schedule on his cell phone.

"Right," he murmured. "Fuc-"

He closed his eyes and huffed.

Then with stoic determination he checked out how the remainder of his day looked. No woman was going to be Li Xiao Lang's undoing. Nope. He glanced at his open laptop on the desk. Once. Twice. Just one more time.

_Dammit_.

He typed in his search query and then clicked on her picture. He scoffed at her dress-clad body. After everything he had said to her, she was still taking clients. People offered to pay him hundreds of thousands of dollars for a single speech and here he was giving her advice free of charge, and what did she do? Walk over it like it was nothing but a puddle in the street.

He reclined in his chair, eyes narrowed. What was wrong with her?

* * *

"Whoa, Syaoran, take it easy on the bag, man," said Yamazaki as he watched Syaoran pummel a punching bag into an early grave.

Syaoran's body was covered in sweat, his hair was slick against his skull and he was breathing labouriously. He delivered two swift kicks to the bag and then reigned down a series of powerful blows with his fists. It swung precariously on the chain with each hit.

"Come on man, you've been at that for like an hour. I'm getting exhausted just watching you."

Yamazaki was shirtless, sitting on a bench, cooling off after Syaoran had put him through a workout from hell. Syaoran however, did not seem to think the workout was over for himself. Yamazaki leaned forward on his knees.

"Who is it? Your mother?"

"No," bit out Syaoran as he landed a punch.

"The fiancée?"

"No."

"Don't tell me it's Eriol?"

"I. Wish," said Syaoran as he landed two more punches.

"You wish? Damn."

Syaoran threw his entire weight into three quick consecutive punches and as the bag swung into him, he caught it against his chest. He stood then breathing hard, his forehead pressed against the solid bag which had loosened up considerably since his fist met it that evening.

"Yeah," he murmured and he swayed across to Yamazaki.

Plopping down on the bench, he leaned over his knees, panting.

"You gonna tell me what's going on?"

He glanced over at Yamazaki in a 'what do you think?' kind of way, before taking off his grappling gloves.

"Fine," said Yamazaki, faking outrage. He flung Syaoran a towel, hitting him in the head. "Suffer in silence then moron."

Without missing a beat, Syaoran took the towel and hit Yamazaki a sharp slap with it across his bare chest.

"Oww!" he cried, toppling over in pain. "_Fuck _Li. That hurt."

"Don't act like you don't get worse from your wife."

"That's low man," said Yamazaki rubbing his sore chest.

Syaoran picked up a water bottle from below the bench and guzzled some water, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

"But come on," said Yamazaki. "What's the deal?"

"I'm just... tense."

"Tense?"

Yamazaki's forehead creased. He studied Syaoran for a moment.

"Work tense?"

Syaoran shook his head.

"Wedding plans tense? I used to get that. The jittery feeling, the one that makes you want to throw up, it's normal."

Again Syaoran shook his head. He wanted to get married. There was no need to be nervous or hesitant.

Yamazaki glanced around the gym room, thinking. He gave a small chuckle.

"What are you, horny or something?"

Syaoran's brow furrowed, his gaze suddenly fixed to the corner of the room. Yamazaki's eyes flew wide open. Then he burst into a fit of laughter, holding his stomach as he keeled over. He gestured to the punching bag with his thumb.

"Is that what all this is about? You're horny?"

Syaoran sat up straight.

"Shut up."

But Yamazaki continued to laugh, too amused to be wary of Syaoran's glare.

"Word of advice, call in your jet and visit your fiancée."

Syaoran jumped up and headed for the door before Yamazaki could figure out that the source of his frustration was not Meilin. Joker as he was, the guy could be more observant than he let on.

"You know what they say," said Yamazaki, still chuckling. "All work and no play makes Li-kun a very horny boy!"

Syaoran slammed the door behind him so hard it rattled. Yamazaki Takashi was lucky he only had one best friend and that he was currently it. However, the next time he had to spot Yamazaki, his hand just might slip. He wondered if the guy would still be laughing when he had to hold up hundreds of pounds of weights all by himself. The idiot did not know what he was in for.

The following day, with Yamazaki's laughter still ringing in his ears, Syaoran, together with Ming, managed to carve out an hour of free time in his schedule. He had to see the courtesan. He could not function when he kept thinking about what she was doing and who she was doing it with. He reasoned that if he could just see her in person, it would do a lot to help his delicate state. There would be no touching, no kissing, just pure conversation. She had never been with a man after all, and if she had managed to get to her age without doing so, obviously her first time was important. He was not going to be a rodent and weasel his way under her skirt. He was better than that.

Syaoran could practically hear his inner mind laughing at his lies.

He dialled the agency's number from memory and the secretary Naoko picked up as promptly as usual.

"Hikaru House. This is Naoko speaking. How can I be of service?"

"This is Li Syaoran," he said.

"Oh Li-sama, it's great to hear from you. I assume you're calling for Ayame?"

"Yes. I will like to see her," he checked his schedule to make sure, "Tuesday at 1 pm."

"I apologize Li-sama but Ayame is not available that day."

Syaoran went silent. That was a variable he had not been expecting and it threw a serious wrench in his plans.

"Excuse me?"

"Ayame is not available that day," repeated Naoko. "But there are other wonderful girls-"

"I want her."

A pause.

"I'm sorry but as I said, she's unavailable."

"Why isn't she available?"

"Ayame does not accept clients on that day."

"Really."

"Yes Li-sama." Then, "I apologize. I assumed you checked her profile page."

Syaoran shifted in his chair. Of course he had checked her profile page but he had been looking at more important things than the days she worked. He pulled at his collar which seemed a bit too tight. And his neck was itching. Seriously, this must be what junkies felt like.

"When is the soonest I can see her?"

If he had to reschedule a meeting or two, so be it. It was drastic but he was desperate and his inability to get what he wanted right then made him want to see her even more, as irrational as it sounded. One way or another, he was getting his date.

He could hear Naoko typing. She told him the next available date and he felt his heart give a jolt.

"That's a week from now," he said, becoming annoyed with the secretary.

"Hai."

"I never had to wait this long before."

"Well every week is different Li-sama. What I can do is contact you if one of her other clients cancels. In the meantime, you are welcome to choose another girl."

"No. I don't want another girl." He sighed heavily. "I'll call you back."

He ended the call and clutched his cell phone tightly.

_If one of her clients cancels. **One** of her clients._

Those words haunted Syaoran for hours. Here he was obsessing over the courtesan and she was merrily parading around with other men. She was probably with one right now. And he was probably twice her age! No that might be a good thing. An older man could not compete with him. Syaoran pinched the bridge of his nose. What the hell was he thinking about? What the hell was he competing for? A damn escort? Was that the level he had sunk to?

He opened up the laptop on his desk and typed in the name of the Hikaru House website. Within seconds he was on the courtesan's well worn-in profile page thanks to his many visits. He practically drooled everyday over her pictures and it did not take a lot out of him to visualise her face which in the pictures was blurred out on top of her neck. Syaoran drew a deep breath. He should not want to touch her, to kiss her, to hear her voice. But here he was being a fool. He massaged the back of his neck, trying to work through his aroused state without doing the obvious.

His chest started feeling tight and he realized that he was forgetting to breathe. That girl… she was so... what were the words to describe someone you could not stop thinking about? No matter how brash he was to her, no matter how discourteous, she never lost her temper or said something as bad back to him. It was bewildering at first but then he thought, she must simply be a genuinely nice person which was a kind way of saying she was a pushover.

But Syaoran did not want anyone to push her over but him. He felt a rush of irritability knowing that some other man was getting the same experiences he liked - her smiles, her delicious voice, even her heavy over-sharing. Then he wondered, if the courtesan could make him this crazy over her, it would be fair to assume many of her other clients were equally as drawn to her as he was? Syaoran tugged at his hair as he read the description of the only service she provided: Companionship.

He read over her entire profile, this time in detail. He saw she went for $3 000 an hour now. Satomi was steadily increasing the price it seemed. Most likely to match what he was willing to pay. People did tend to think expensive things were better. Were the other men really paying that price now? She was booked solid so the answer must be yes. That meant they really wanted her too. He was very busy these days and was going to be in the upcoming weeks, months even. She only did public dates and he did not have the time for that. He stared at his computer keys, thinking. Suddenly, a smirk made its way to his face. It was time to teach the innocent courtesan just how money-hungry madams could be.

He picked up his cell phone and called the agency again. As soon as Naoko answered, he said, "It's Li Syaoran. Transfer me to Matsushita."

* * *

When Sakura was called into Satomi's office, she got the sense that she was the lamb being ushered into the slaughterhouse. Though Satomi had always been her ladylike, friendly self, Syaoran's words were still imprinted on Sakura's brain and they made her feel quite ill at ease. She sat in the chair in front of Satomi's desk, hands clutched in her lap, waiting for the woman to speak.

"Li Syaoran contacted me," said Satomi, after she finished typing something into her computer.

Sakura felt blood draining from her limbs. What did he want with her now?

"He did?" she asked, lightly. "For what?"

"You."

Satomi stood up and cracked open a window. Then she took a cigarette from the case on her desk and lit it. She took a drag and breathed out the smoke into the Tokyo air.

Sakura sat in confusion, not sure why Satomi had to call her in personally to tell her that. She was after all open to dating him now. Or was he not sure because of their last encounter? Wait. He did not call to offer her some kind of... bid... did he?

"He won't be able to take you out," said Satomi. "So you will have to go to the hotel he's staying at."

Sakura was aware that she was visibly shaking. She had never done that before. All her dates were public. What was she supposed to do confined with Li Syaoran where no one could see her or hear her scream? That was not what she had signed up for.

Sakura opened her mouth to speak but Satomi held up a hand to halt her words.

"Considering how lucky you are to be shown this much attention by someone like him, I'm sure you wouldn't mind doing this."

Sakura's shoulders dropped and she suddenly had to work a lot harder to draw air into her lungs. Satomi took another pull on the cigarette.

"For the next two weeks, the days you work are his. There is a package we provide every now and then called the Girlfriend Experience - _Indulgence_. Not unlike the regular girlfriend experience, you will essentially be committing to being his girlfriend for the allotted time. Just like with a real girlfriend however, you will allow him some leeway."

Sakura's breath caught. _Leeway?_

"You will let him kiss you on the lips if he wishes, hug you if he wishes, caress and pet you if he wishes or if he wants you to pet him, then you will. I do not allow hands below undergarments and definitely no intercourse of any kind and no oral. Other than that you will satisfy his needs. If he wants to sleep with you, he'd have to be willing to accept a larger bill."

She smiled like it was a joke but her face was darkened with restrained, sinister excitement. It was then that Sakura knew Li Syaoran had been right about everything. But that could not be so. No. She had to hear it. From Satomi directly.

"Satomi-san, is it true… is it true that you have… auctions?"

Satomi paused mid-smoke. She walked over to her desk, outed her cigarette in an ashtray and sat down.

"It's true."

"Do you expect me to take part in those auctions?" Sakura asked, quietly.

"Let's put it like this," said Satomi. "Why _wouldn't you_ want to be part of them?"

Sakura sank into her seat.

"Because, I've never slept with someone Satomi-san. You never said I had to. And I could never do that with a stranger."

"So you would rather do it with a young poor man who'll use you and leave you with nothing when the next pretty girl comes along?"

"Well... I believe you should only be intimate with someone you love." That was what her father had instilled in her. "Like, your husband."

Satomi gave a short chuckle.

"So you are saying your chastity has a high value."

"I guess so."

"Then why not get paid for it?"

Sakura glanced about the office.

"It's wrong," she said, finally.

"Why?" asked Satomi. When Sakura failed to answer she said, "Because men say it is in order to control you? To make you feel like you have to give it to them, free of charge if they sweet talk you well enough? With that old-fashioned thinking, if you're lucky you'll get a ring and a house. And even that's a form of payment, a form of selling. You have so much power and you don't know it. You have the power to get so much from a man for your virginity, why not take it? Embrace it? Li Syaoran seems very interested in you."

"What if I don't want to sell it?" she murmured.

"I would never force a girl to sexually please a man, Kinomoto-san. But give yourself some time. Making decisions in haste can leave you with many regrets. Like passing up 3.6 million dollars because you want to wait for 'true love'. With that much money in your pocket, men will be lining up to be your true love."

Numb, Sakura nodded.

"But what about my other clients?" she managed to ask, trying to reason her way out of whatever she was getting herself deeper into.

"What other clients?" asked Satomi, looking her dead in the eyes. "Your only client is Li Syaoran. For the time being. If I were you, I'd do what's necessary to keep him happy. Young. Handsome. Rich. Many girls won't mind being with him. Many of the girls here would kill to be with him."

She stood.

"If you are having problems with him, you call me. Only me. If he is not keeping in line, I will terminate all business with him until he can follow the rules."

If only she knew how little Li Syaoran cared about her rules, thought Sakura. She probably would never have done business with him in the first place.

Satomi smoothed down the front of her sheath dress.

"One more thing," she said. "Your dates will begin at 10 am and end at 10 pm. See Naoko for his address on your way out."

When Sakura was at the door, Satomi added, "And thanks to Li Syaoran, you'll have all the money you need to be an independent young woman. Who knows, you may even be able to start your own business like many of my success stories. Don't be held back by traditions and ideals darling. Your biggest assets are your mind and body. Learn to use both well."

* * *

A/N

Hey Tomodachi! Thank you again signed reviewers and anonymous reviewers gina, abcdef (me thinks you are right), aisora14 (he doesn't have first hand experience with them. remember he said he doesn't go out with courtesans), Kira, Reader, Guest, PureMoon and Fan. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Sigh... Sakura needs to grow a backbone though, doesn't she? Maybe next chapter we'll see why she can't just up and leave... Gonna try to finish two updates for my other story now. Stay tuned. Read and Review. And Until Next Time, Ja ne! ^_^


	9. Not That Big Bad of a Wolf

**Chapter**** Nine**

**Not That Big Bad of a Wolf**

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

The Diamond Palace hotel soared above Sakura, its incredible height stretching into the clouds, making her feel as tiny and insignificant as a speck of dust; and, to all the men and women swirling around her in blazes of opulence, she might as well have been. Red soles, white smiles, genuine fur coats, tailored suits, glossy hair - even the air reeked of the filthy-sweet stench of money. Surrounding the building were other high-rise luxury hotels, but the ultra-modern and elegant design of the building and the way it seemed to dazzle in the daylight made Sakura think it was the prettiest one around.

She walked through the large glass doors which were opened wide by two doormen, dressed impeccably in their red and black uniforms. They greeted her with pleasant smiles and formal, warm tones. Her heels clicked loudly on the tile flooring and she winced apologetically to her surroundings. Was anyone else hearing that clack, clack, clack?

Sakura hurried to a large, glass stone counter. A man, whom she assumed was the concierge, was standing behind it. Holding her small handbag closer to her frame, she waited for him to finish speaking to an old lady who was carrying a white Bichon Frisé beneath her arm. The dog was wagging its tail wildly and looked about ready to launch itself at Sakura with every intention of escaping the person who would condemn him to a heavy, gold collar and pressed tuxedo jacket.

"Good morning, Miss," the concierge said to her after the lady walked away, nose stuck proudly in the air. "How may I be of service today?"

"H-hello," she said. "I'm Ki- Sakamoto Ayame. I'm here to see Li Syaoran."

The concierge smiled.

"Li-sama informed us he would be receiving a visitor today. Please take the elevator on the left and the bellhop will take you straight to his penthouse suite."

"Thank you."

"You are most welcome. Please, enjoy your visit to the Diamond Palace."

Just as she got to the elevator, two gentlemen exited. She stepped in and the bellhop gave the most respectful bow she had ever seen.

"What floor are you going to Miss?"

"Ano… the penthouse suite."

"Then you must be Li-sama's guest."

She nodded in mild amazement.

"I am."

The bellhop pulled out a key-card and swiped it before punching in the number 46 - the highest number - on the elevator key pad. Seeing her eyeing him curiously, he said, "All floors 40 through 46 require a key-card. For security purposes."

"Oh," said Sakura. "Of course. Thank you for explaining."

It was a long way up but the ride was smooth and fast. As the numbers on the elevator display steadily increased, Sakura's body started to tremble and her stomach churned. What if Syaoran wanted to make out as soon as she arrived? Would she be able to go through with that? The slightest tremour of excitement ran through her toes though, and she knew that there was a part of her that wanted to have contact with him. But rich, young guys like him must be players right?

She drew a deep breath and exhaled. She did not want anything serious to happen between them, something that she would regret and yet, she was not sure if she would be able to resist his advances if he made any. Why oh why did he have to be so attractive? She thought back to Eriol's words about him being a nice guy.

_Please let him be nice today._

"Are you feeling well, Miss?" asked the bellboy.

"Hai," she murmured, her gazed fixed on the changing elevator numbers.

Finally, number 46 appeared and the elevator chimed open.

"Straight down on your left Miss," said the bellboy.

Sakura nodded and he went back down, taking her only means of escape with him. Then she remembered, if things got that bad there were always the windows. She checked her watch.

9:55 am.

She was on time so Syaoran had no excuse to be all terse with her. When she came face to face with the door to his suite however, she could not bring herself to press the buzzer. _You will let him kiss you on the lips if he wishes, hug you if he wishes, caress and pet you if he wishes_. That was what Satomi had said. Did that mean that once she entered Syaoran's place, her body was no longer hers? Was she supposed to submit to his whims completely?

She checked her watch again.

10:01 am.

It would not do to annoy him considering the circumstances. Before she could think more about what they were going to be doing that day, she pressed the buzzer and waited.

Mere seconds later, the door swung open and she was staring into all-consuming brown eyes. Instantaneously, she felt a tug behind her navel pulling her to Syaoran but she kept her feet firmly rooted in place. He had his cell phone to his ear and he was looking down at her, his face almost void of all emotion save a little exasperation. Sakura was about to apologize for being a minute late when he turned and walked farther back into the penthouse.

His presence was so strong, it lingered, and it took Sakura a while to process that he was no longer barring her from entering. Warily, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, hearing the automatic lock click shut. Resigning herself to her fate, she slipped off her heels and moved from the grand foyer to the living room. The first thing she noticed about the penthouse was the inordinate amount of natural light pouring through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. She had a panoramic view of Tokyo city and for a moment she felt disoriented seeing how high up she stood.

The suite was spotless and orderly. Syaoran must have housekeepers but nothing seemed out of place. It was like walking into an interior design magazine. It was very open-concept with the kitchen and dining room being visible from where she stood, though they seemed to be a football field away.

But the atmosphere in the apartment was anything but distant. It was decorated in a timeless aesthetic, with traditional, modern and classic furniture pieces intertwined seamlessly into something fresh and yet familiar. There were large crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceilings, beautiful paintings of varying kinds hanging from the pearly white walls which were carved with intricate mouldings and architectural details that would make the most skilled architect weep in joy. There were even a few Greek column pedestals situated about the rooms, with charming busts and vases atop them.

All in all, it was what you would expect from someone with money - total and unrestrained luxury and eclecticism. Everything smelled new and clean and Sakura could already see herself spilling red wine on that light-grey Persian rug that anchored all the stunning pieces in the living room. She crossed two fingers behind her. Only white wine if offered, she promised herself.

Coming back to the moment at the sound of Syaoran's brusque voice, she ventured farther into the suite. He was standing behind a massive kitchen island. He held up one of those absurdly expensive bottles of water to her and shook it.

Sakura approached him.

"Yes, thank you," she answered, easily heard in the otherwise quiet apartment.

Nothing was on. No TV. Not even a radio. It was like being in a library and in fact, the living room she had been in contained floor-to-ceiling shelves of books and collector's items.

Still talking on the phone in his native tongue, Syaoran reached up in the cupboards for a glass and poured the water for her. He gently slid it across the island and she took it, grateful for the kind hospitality. So far.

Uncorking one for himself, he drank from the bottle as he listened to the person on the other side of the phone, his unfettering gaze on her the entire length of the conversation. She sat on one of the cushioned stools at the island, rest her bag on another and waited, conscious that her every movement was under scrutiny. She was becoming used to it when she realized Syaoran was wrapping up the call. And that was when her heart began an erratic rhythm.

"Zài Jiàn," said Syaoran into the phone, and Sakura, even in her anxious state, found she liked the way goodbye sounded in Cantonese, when he said it in his deep, masculine voice that was so hot it could melt iron.

He rest the phone on the island and took a long drink, finishing off his water. Depositing the glass bottles in a recycling bin he had pulled out from what she had thought was a cabinet drawer, he stood directly opposite her, his attention fixed.

"Courtesan," he breathed.

He had never looked more smug.

She bowed her head in greeting, her heart thundering against her chest.

"Li-san."

No matter how casual he dressed, like now in his black slacks and white t-shirt, Li Syaoran was a force to be reckoned with.

A full minute ticked by on the clock above the microwave.

"You're going to break that glass if you're not careful."

Sakura looked down at her fingers clutching tight to the glass, her knuckles white. Immediately, she released it and held her shaking hands on her lap.

Unlike her, Syaoran did not appear nervous. His eyes indulgently scanned the length of her body he could see. He moved to stand beside her, no doubt to get a better view. He was so close she could smell the crisp, fabric softener scent on his clothes.

"See what I told you about contradicting words and actions?" he said. "Before you only did public dates and now, you're here. In private. What do you have to say for yourself?"

His cell phone started ringing and Sakura was spared from answering because Syaoran was already picking it up.

"Turn on the television if you like," he said to her. He gestured to a room to her right, similar in design to the living room. "I have work to do. If you get hungry, you can help yourself to whatever's in the fridge or you can order room service. The number is on the menu in that drawer behind you."

With that, he walked out of the kitchen and disappeared down a hallway, most likely to his home office. Sakura finished her water, washed the glass and placed it back in the cupboard. She went into the less formal of the living rooms and turned on the large plasma screen.

She only got up to take some fruit from the fridge. Syaoran passed by the living room a few times but he was always on his phone. He would watch her from the kitchen, making her rigid, then, in a blink, he would quietly slip back down the hallway to his office. Five hours had elapsed and she was still watching television alone. She was beginning to feel very tired sitting up straight and it was taking a lot of control to not lie down on the couch, which was very wide and comfy.

She was so absorbed in the Top 50 Sexiest Singers special that was airing, that she did not realize Syaoran standing against a wall, staring at her. It was only when it went to commercial and her eyes glanced across the suite, admiring it for the hundredth time, that she almost had a heart attack. How long had he been there?

He crossed the room and sat down in one of the grey single chairs surrounding the television. Every muscle in Sakura's body went rigid. There was no phone in his hand. The girl on the TV screen introduced number 30 of the Sexiest Singers. Syaoran apathetically watched the six-pack abs of the male rockstar, his expression screaming that he was unimpressed. Looking at his t-shirt, Sakura tried to picture what lay beneath. She barely had time to be properly ashamed of her thoughts as his scary, thrilling gaze returned to her.

"Are you finished with your work, Li-san?" she asked, voice higher than usual.

His eyes drifted south from her face.

"No."

"Well why did you send for me?" she asked. Quickly, she added,"If you're busy, I mean. I don't want to disturb you."

"You're not disturbing me."

She squinted.

"But isn't this a waste of money Li-san? You can't possibly spend a lot of time with me if you're busy."

"Let _me_ worry about my finances, courtesan."

She nodded.

"I didn't mean to insult your ability to pay or anything. I can be frugal about certain things. And twelve hours is such a long time. Your request was so sudden. And Satomi-san took away all my other... well some of them were really depending on me for certain events. It makes me feel terrible to disappoint-"

Sakura broke off her rambling. Syaoran's stare was glacial.

"You prefer to have your other clients rather than be mine, exclusively?"

Sakura's brain was numbing so fast she did not even think to give the desired response.

"Well I've grown attached to some of them and they're like friends."

She was thinking of the old man Koshiro who had told her she made him feel young again, and Shoji who found it easier to socialise with others when she was beside him.

"Friends." Syaoran said the word like it was dirty. "_That's_ how you think of them?"

It was a rhetorical question and Sakura prayed he would move on soon.

"You're mine now," he said with such conviction, it spread a heat deep into her belly, tickling her insides. "You only have to be my companion. _My_ friend."

She was shocked to hear herself say, "You mean for the next two weeks."

Syaoran cocked his head to the side ruminatively, not saying a word.

"I asked you a question earlier," he said, after some time. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Sakura averted her eyes.

"I... I can change my mind about what I want my job to entail."

"Is that so?"

The corners of his lips twitched fleetingly, and his eyes narrowed like he was plotting something. Should she be afraid? She watched, stricken, as he rest his hands on the arms of the chair and pushed himself to his feet. Sitting beside her, he angled his body in her direction and she lowered her head, suddenly, incredibly shy.

Her breath locked in her throat as she followed the path of Syaoran's hand, reaching out to her knee. He leaned forward and she could feel his body heat against her skin. Their gazes made contact and both of them paused all movement, their faces dangerously close. Just as it looked like he was going to touch her, his hand passed her legs and grabbed the remote on the couch beside her. Sakura shut her eyes briefly, waves of relief and disappointment crashing over her.

Syaoran lowered the volume on the television and rest the remote on the glass coffee table.

He leaned back on the couch.

"Why aren't you talking?" he asked her, that bass in his voice threatening to make her swoon.

"I don't know what to say," she said.

"Think of something."

"Um... I, well..." She sighed softly. "My mind's blank. I'm sorry."

"Why's your mind blank?" asked Syaoran. "I thought being a companion was your job. I thought you knew exactly what you're doing. Your mind shouldn't be blank. I demand to be entertained."

The way he spoke, you knew he was a leader, born and bred. He spoke with an authority that made Sakura fearful because she found herself wanting to let everything go and obey his every command - which was crazy! He was always so sure. So self-confident. It was inspiring. It was like being in the presence of a prince. And was it not every girl's dream at one point to be a princess?

"My mind's blank," said Sakura, slowly. "Because I'm a little on edge. But I'll get over it soon. I know I'm being silly."

"What has you on edge?" asked Syaoran.

"This Indulgence package," she explained, averting her eyes. "It has me on edge."

"Why?"

"You want to do a lot," said Sakura. "I don't think I mind kissing or hugging but the other things… they're a bit much for me." She wrapped her arms around herself. "Do you really need to do those things? Do you really need me to do... things... to you?"

Syaoran stiffened.

"Excuse me?" Then he shook his head, like he was coming to a realisation. "Do you think I _asked_ to be able to touch you in those ways?"

"Well… yes."

Syaoran's brows raised.

"When I called Matsushita, all I asked was for you to be able to come over here. She offered me more and I accepted."

"Oh." Sakura gulped, horrified at her mistake. "I'm sorry! I thought-"

"You thought that you're so irresistible I just had to have my way with you." He glowered at her. "You really think you're something special, don't you? I already told you I choose you when I'm bored. On a regular day, when I have more time, you wouldn't even be a last option."

He got to his feet and Sakura blanched, knowing he was going to say something even more unkind because he was quite capable of it.

"Let's be clear about this," continued Syaoran, voice irate. "Matsushita offered me something which means, by you being here, you did too. I will have what I paid for."

Sakura shrank on the couch.

"I didn't say I wouldn't do those things Li-san. I'll do what I have to do to fulfil the deal. I'll do it all."

Syaoran was quite formidable, glaring down at her the way he was, shoulder's taut, back straight. Sakura, in a fit of panic wondered if he would strike her. The penthouse phone rang and he turned on his heels and headed back into his office. Sakura fell weakly against the couch. Of all the messes she had ever ended up in, this one took the gold.

* * *

Syaoran finished his call and reclined in his office chair. He gazed around the room thinking about the girl sitting on his living room couch. Why did he even bother having her over? Part of it was to prove a point he supposed but, if he could let go of some of his pride, he could admit that part of him thought, when Matsushita suggested the Indulgence package, that the courtesan would be open to doing those things with him; that perhaps, she desired him in some way.

Syaoran cracked his neck, trying to loosen out the tension within him.

Did the courtesan not think about him as frequently as he thought about her? He had expected her to be more willing and assertive like she was in his head. He did not expect a wild, uninhibited freak but the way she had wrapped her hands around herself made it seem like he repulsed her.

He crossed his arms on his desk.

She let other men kiss and touch her all the time but she did not _think_ she would _mind_ him doing so? He ground his molars together, a sour taste in his mouth. Did she like Yamada Shoji and those other men more? Why did he even care? Damn girl. Did he imagine those times she had blushed when he had looked at her? Was he so fucking aroused in her presence that he was projecting his own feelings onto her? Feelings she did not have at all?

He glared at the laptop on his desk. That thought - that she felt nothing for him while he was aching for her body - was intolerable. It was demeaning. Did she come here just to make the money then? Would she just passively sit there and let him do what he wanted to her because she wanted to get paid? Sure that was her job but it was also supposed to be her job to not make him feel like he was paying for it.

Without a second thought, Syaoran strode back into the living room to avenge his ego she had so sorely bruised. All movement ceased when she caught sight of him and if he was not mistaken, she was no longer breathing. The way she diminished before his eyes made a light go on in his head. Any woman would be cautious and tense when she was in a locked apartment with a man she barely knew. And he had told the courtesan about how men wanted to use her. He was bigger than her, stronger than her, he could easily subdue her. Was it a surprise she was less than happy to allow him a great deal of access to her body? And he _had_ come to realise that she was a pawn on Matsushita's chessboard, so obviously she was coerced into this to some extent.

He reconsidered all the harsh words he had for her. Honestly, he wanted a pleasant two weeks. He had liked going out with her and he wanted to mimic those times in convenience. He had told himself there would be no touching and kissing anyway. So he should not be upset she did not really want to do that. He should be glad they were on the same page.

"By now you must realise I was right about Matsushita's plans for you," he said.

There was no response. Only a small droop of her shoulders.

"Why don't you quit?" he asked her. "Are you one of those people who insist on learning the hard way?"

She curved the hem of her skirt over her knees, her eyes turning to the television screen.

"It's not that simple," she said, half to him, half to herself.

"You're a courtesan," said Syaoran. "Not a member of the yakuza."

"I made a commitment."

"Look at me."

She did. And he was momentarily rendered speechless because she was so… he gave himself a mental shake. She was so stupid. Unbelievably so.

"You don't have to be here if you don't want to," said Syaoran. "I can cancel this arrangement."

She perked up in shock.

"But you already paid!"

"I know," he said, and he felt a pang in his gut, seeing how tentatively delighted she looked. She really did not want to be there with him. She had been so affectionate and adoring with Yamada Shoji. Why could she not be the same way with him? He had told her to forget his past offensive remarks and behaviour. Was that impossible for her?

"I don't want to upset Satomi-san," she muttered.

Syaoran took a step forward, watching her face astutely for a lie.

"Is she threatening you?"

She shook her head.

"She's not! I agreed to work with her for one year. That's what I'm going to do."

Syaoran's suspicions started to grow. She was trying to act casual but he could see something was weighing on her mind.

"Besides that non-disclosure agreement," he said, fully aware that he was probing too deep. "Did you sign anything else for Matsushita?"

"Like what?" she asked, voice light.

He pursed his lips. This girl was really starting to test his patience. Here he stood, trying to dish out free advice and guidance again and there she sat, not listening. Some people really just liked to bathe in their own failures and mistakes without trying to find a way to fix them. Whatever became of her, it would be because she chose it. In the end, he would definitely say, 'I told you so.'

There was no way this date with her was going to get any better that day so Syaoran saw no need to prolong the awkwardness. If he made a show of goodwill, perhaps tomorrow will be closer to what he wanted. After growing up around as many women as he did, he knew a trick or two for softening them up. Not that the courtesan needed much softening up. He would happily lie back and let her glide that smooth body of hers up and down his any day of the week.

The courtesan's back went rigid and her head shot up. Shit, thought Syaoran, snapping out of the beginning of a magnificent daydream. Could she read minds? Her cheeks were pink and for a split, crazy second he thought she could. He ran a shaky hand through his hair. He needed to get her away from him. He could feel a desire growing inside him, one that made him unable to think about anything but immediate gratification, which could only be summed up as an image of the courtesan falling naked into his bed.

How much would be pay to see her naked?

_Fuck Xiao Lang. First you want her to wise up but now you want her to work so you can satisfy your erotic needs?_

Summoning his strength to not make his dreams a reality, he focused on the television screen.

"There's a spa in the building," he said. "Two actually. Would you like me to call one of them? Let them know you're coming down?"

"What?"

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes.

"I'm going to be busier than I thought," he told her. "You can stay here and watch the television or you can enjoy a few hours at the spa. My treat."

"But you're already paying-"

"As I said before, let me worry about my finances."

He saw her thinking hard like it was an exam. Did she think he would want something extra for the spa treat? It was truly aggravating that she saw him as some kind of lecherous guy but considering the circumstances, he could hardly blame her.

"If you really don't mind," she said. "I would like that."

Wordlessly, he went to his office and called the concierge to have it arranged for her. When he walked back into the living room, she got to her feet, her small handbag clutched tight to her person. Would she ever relax?

"I selected a four-hour session for you."

"Four hours?!" she exclaimed. "Are you sure? You really shouldn't. You've already-"

He gave her a pointed look and she lowered her head.

"Thank you."

"Did you eat anything?"

"Not yet."

"You can eat lunch in any of the hotel's restaurants," he told her. "Remember to tell them you're my guest."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The look of absolute wonder and gratitude that lit up her face flooded Syaoran's mind, emptying it of all reason. He liked this. Impressing her. Giving her a treat she did not expect. If only she was open to him giving her more. He would give her more again and again and again. In any position she liked.

He fisted his hands tight.

_**Behave**, Xiao Lang_.

"And after you're finished," he told her. "You can leave."

She checked the time on her watch.

"But-" She paused. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No. It will be after eight when you're done with everything. Women shouldn't be out by themselves late at night. You can leave early."

"Really? Thank you so much!"

She got a look of bliss on her face, like she had died and gone to heaven. Syaoran's cheeks warmed. That was his doing and he did not feel bad this time. He was proud he could make her smile. She had a genuine and pretty one too. He opened the front door for her and watched in mild fascination as she buckled the straps of her high heels. When she was so near it was a feat to keep his gaze off of her, to not want to feel her. When she did things it was not as rushed as he was accustomed to people doing things. She was always careful with things, her bag, her shoes, his sunglasses as she placed them in her handbag, like she was afraid her touch would destroy them.

"Thank you again for everything," she said to him as she got up.

She made to go out the door and Syaoran did not know why it happened, but his hand shot out and gripped her around the wrist. Tiny bursts of energy ricocheted through his insides; and, from the way her green eyes went wide, she may have felt that too.

"Same time tomorrow," he told her, needlessly.

"Okay," she said, voice airy.

Neither moved. Syaoran felt like every nerve ending in his body was firing. He wanted to do so many things to this girl but he would never go that far. He would content himself with platonic touches and fantasies. He was not a single man. She was a courtesan.

Yet, his hand glided up her forearm, curled around her elbow and moved up to her shoulder. He rubbed the edge of it with his thumb absent-mindedly as he devoured the sight of her succulent lips. Damn. The amount of stimulation he was receiving from watching was unreal and all that did, was make him want to do more. Their faces were drifting closer. He could smell a faint trace of her fruity perfume. The air was growing hot and his insides were trembling with want. Maybe, just a little taste would not hurt. In ancient Rome people kissed on the lips to solidify contracts all the time. It was all right. He was just going to seal the deal.

"Li-san...?" she whispered, her back knocking gently into a wall.

When had they moved?

"Tell the bellhop you're going to the White Sands Spa and Salon," he said, trying to act like he was not eyeing her mouth with every intention of making it his. "He'll take you there."

"... okay."

_Damn Xiao Lang. Let her leave already. Now. Before you can't stop yourself. Before she's not the only one making mistakes._

Exhaling heavily, he peeled his fingers from her.

"You should go now."

"I should go," she murmured, as though in a trance.

He dragged his feet as he backed away from her, and now at a safe distance, he continued to observe this dangerous specimen. Suddenly, her mouth fell open in a silent gasp. She hurried into the hallway.

"S-see you tomorrow, Li-san," she stuttered.

He nodded to her and watched her from his doorway until she got on the elevator. He closed the door thinking, this deal with her, it was a bad idea. He should call Matsushita. Cancel it. It did not matter that he was getting a decent price, better than the three hour ones he had been paying for. The package made more sense. And he could have a little fun. His heart rate quickened.

No.

_No no no_. He came to Japan for business. Pleasure was not even a distant second. He went into the bathroom, filled his hands with ice-cold water from the faucet and slapped it onto his face. He watched himself in the vanity mirror, beads of water dripping from his hair and chin, his brown eyes bright.

The courtesan... she was a companion. A friend.

_People had friends._

* * *

A/N

Hey Tomodachi! Thank you again signed reviewers and anonymous reviewers SS, Kura, Guest, Monstar xo, Reader, Ss Fan, Ginger, Gina, abcedf, aisora14, Reader, Guest and Ryancha. I'm working long hours these days (and seven days a week) and as I said I only get time to write at night. Now when I get home I'm exhausted. The long hours are for a few more weeks but I'm getting used to them so by... next week I think, I'll be back to my usual update routine. Okay?

Oh. Glad some people are starting to dislike Syaoran. Thought it would have been more though lol. Also, you may have wanted a bit of action but it was important that he take it down a notch this chapter. Otherwise KS will never truly fall for him. Sorry if there are typos...I'm running to work!

Read and Review. Until Next Time, Ja ne! ^_^


	10. How One Makes Conversation

**Chapter Ten**

**How One Makes Conversation**

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

A simple routine had developed between Sakura and Syaoran. Similar to the first day, she would show up to his apartment, he would let her in and tell her to make herself at home, then he would retreat into his office to do what must be a truckload of work because he stayed there most of the day. Throughout the hours she was there, he would peek in on her, there would be some brief exchanging of words she tentatively defined as conversation, and then when it was nearing eight o'clock he would tell her she could leave.

The little snatches of time they spent together however, had gotten her used to his presence. Though, she would wonder every now and again if he was still peeved with what had happened - or not happened - the first time she came over. Sometimes he would be so focused on her she could not stop fidgeting with herself, but other times, he acted like she was not there as he walked by.

Truthfully, she was beginning to feel guilty about getting paid to basically do nothing but watch television. Yet, Syaoran did not act like he was missing out on anything and he did not mention them doing anything together. Maybe she should be grateful for the easy money and surprisingly easier client?

She checked the time on the ornate clock hanging from one of the living room walls. If she was correct, he would be looking in on her very soon. He had almost predictable 45-minutes intervals in which he did that. Yet today, two hours passed without any sign of him. Sakura went into the kitchen and strained her ears to hear the faintest sound from his home office. Nothing. Did he fall and bump his head? Was he sleeping? Buried in work? Should she go check in on him?

Since it was always better to be safe than sorry she lightly padded down the hallway to his office. When she got to the door, she put her ear against it and almost immediately heard a chair screech as it was sharply pushed back. Was he getting up? She heard footsteps drawing near and paled. Hoe! He was not just getting up, he was coming out! She turned on her toes and sprinted on them all the way back to the living room. She plopped down on the couch, breathing hard through her nostrils, just as Syaoran nonchalantly walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door.

He leaned back against the kitchen island and glared at the appliance as he drank from a bottle of water. Should she ask him what was on his mind? Would he answer? Would he think she was being nosy?

Syaoran spotted her from across the room and her gaze popped to the television screen. He started in her direction. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up like antennas as they picked up the Li Syaoran network in the Highest Definition known to man and broadcast it to every cell of her body.

_So much for getting used to his presence._

"What do you find so interesting about this channel?" asked Syaoran, looking at what was on - Best Red Carpet Looks. "You watch it everyday."

"I don't know," answered Sakura, not quite sure how to explain her fascination with it.

He shook his head and took a seat on one of the armchairs adjacent to her.

"There's a lot of fashion stuff," she told him. "And you get insider details about your favourite celebrities. And when there are new music videos and things like that, they are all right here in one place." She placed a finger on her chin, thinking. "And some celebrities have reality shows and I like those as well because it kind of shows you who they are as persons."

Syaoran looked like he was on the brink of a yawn.

"So you spend hours of your life watching others live theirs?"

"Well, they do things I'll never do," said Sakura. "And they go places I'll never go. And I guess it's exciting to watch all of that and kind of be part of it with them especially when you're a fan. But what I really like to watch are the countdowns. I like guessing who would be on the list and in what order. Oh and there's also the entertainment news…"

"Do you watch real news?" asked Syaoran.

Sakura twisted in her seat and he shook his head again. He settled himself better on the armchair, his body spreading out over it, filling the seat completely. How long did it take him to master that accidentally cool-slash-sexy pose? He could definitely appear on one of the covers of those paperback romance novels you bought in the supermarket. Shirt off, pants low on the hips, head thrown back while his eyes watched you with devilish desire. Yes. She could see it.

"To me this is all useless information," he said, gesturing to the television. "I don't understand your inclination towards it."

"Neither does my brother."

"You have a brother?" he asked, going perfectly still. Sakura smiled, seeing him on guard and hearing it in his voice, even though it was only a little. "Younger or older?"

"Older," she informed him. "He's unbearably overprotective and lives to tease me and call me a monster. Which I'm not! I mean, it's partly his fault I grew up as a tomboy. But I think I've improved a lot. Our mother was very beautiful and refined and lady-like. It's been a sort of goal of mine to be like her."

"You said your mother _was_?"

"She died when I was three."

Syaoran glanced at the television, nodding.

"Does your brother know about your job? I find it difficult to believe he would like it considering he's overprotective."

Sakura gave a mental sigh. Why did he always have to bring up what she was doing for her job like it was the most terrible profession? Especially when he was using her services?

"He doesn't know. And you're right, he wouldn't like it. I never even had a proper boyfriend thanks to him. He always showed up wherever I was and scared all the guys away."

Syaoran smirked.

"It's not funny!" Sakura tried to frown but a giggle forced its way past her lips. "It was horrible. If he knew I was going on dates," she shuddered, "I don't even want to think about it. He was really against me coming to Tokyo on my own but Otou-san gave me permission and onii-chan respects him too much to argue.

"Where are you from?"

"A small town outside the city."

Syaoran looked her in the eyes, but she redirected her gaze back to the television before he could pry any information out of her. She still remembered how upset he had gotten when she did not tell him her name. But today was different. Today he did not get an attitude. He simply turned his attention to the countdown and watched it with her.

Every now and then, he would shift around in his chair like it was uncomfortable. When he cracked his neck by twisting his head with his hands, she grimaced, sure that it was going to come clean off. It was only when he yawned did she truly feel the compulsion to break the quietness between them and ask, "Do you want to watch something else?"

"No," he said, gaze fixed to the television. "You want to see who shows up on the list. Wasn't that what you said?"

"I don't have to..."

"Relax. I don't mind watching."

Sakura nodded but it was not long before she was feeling the need to be a good courtesan and be fully invested in making sure he was having a good time.

"Is your work going well, Li-san?"

He looked at her as a commercial came on.

"Why do you ask?"

"You're always busy, so I guess I'm asking to see if what you're doing is going the way you want. If you're making any progress. You looked a little annoyed earlier." When he did not respond, she added, "Despite what you think, I'm not bored by business. I just don't know about it. Most of it might go over my head but I won't mind hearing about your work. I like learning about what other people do for a living."

Syaoran's eyes narrowed in contemplation for so long, she had given up on him saying another word. But miraculously, he parted his lips and asked, "Do you know Yano Corporation?"

"I see the building from time to time as I travel," she said. "But I'm not exactly sure what they do there."

"They specialise in product engineering software. Some of what they do can be used in the design of motor vehicles and such. I won't go into the tech with you. All you need to know is that what they do, they do it well. Quite impressive, actually. I tried to buy them out but they refused my offer."

"So can't you negotiate with them?" asked Sakura.

Syaoran went stone-faced.

"Courtesan, if you're worth twelve hundred dollars an hour but you want to make me pay twelve million, no, we cannot negotiate."

"So they want too much?"

"Too much is an understatement," said Syaoran. "These... brainiacs, they act as though I snap my fingers and billions materialize. They don't realise what it takes to come up with even one billion dollars. It's a lot of money. So when they counter and ask for ridiculous valuations, I find it highly absurd and disrespectful. Especially when I did my due diligence and know for a fact that they're only worth so much."

That dark tornado swirling in his eyes... it was a wonder Yano Corporation was still standing.

"So what are you going to do?" asked Sakura.

"In the simplest terms, I'm trying to get the senior executives replaced with more reasonable ones. I need a certain number of shareholders on my side for that to happen."

"That's a takeover," said Sakura, excitedly, happy to not feel clueless. "I know about those. My brother did a project on different kinds of takeovers once and I listened to him when he practiced his speech for class. But people lose their jobs when things like that happen. You're not going to fire everyone right?"

"Not if their performances are up to standards," said Syaoran, and he squeezed his left shoulder and pressed his thumb into it in consistent circles. "That's far in the future though. What I need to focus on is buying Yano. Soon."

"It sounds urgent."

"It is. I have several other things demanding my attention as well. I have to do as much as I can now. I'm going to be losing weeks of my time come October."

"Why October?"

After a very tense breath of silence, he said, "I have an important event that month."

"A business event?"

Syaoran looked like his typical self but there was a strong, invisible wall materializing between him and her and she could feel its presence as acutely as she felt the couch beneath her.

"Okay," she said, moving on. "Well I know you may think I'm being insincere but I think it's really amazing that you're able to lead and take charge the way you do. I can hardly deal with public speaking. I can't imagine how scary it is to negotiate deals or strategize to buy corporations."

"I was groomed for it," he said, each word pronounced in an unhurried, vigilant manner. "To me, it's all very normal."

"Even so, you're very brave. Sometimes I feel like I don't know a lot and in some ways I'm a real coward because of that."

"You should see the world," said Syaoran, like she had endless resources to do that with. "Experience and learn all that you can. Ignorance breeds fear. Make a conscious decision to counter that."

"That's why I'm in Tokyo. That's what I wanted. Satomi-san said being a courtesan would give me lots of experiences. I don't think I've changed much on the inside though."

Syaoran awkwardly squeezed his shoulder again and winced.

"Um… would you like me to do that for you?" asked Sakura.

He froze, eyes questioning. She held her hands up and wiggled her fingers.

"At the agency they teach us some basic massages," she said to him. "And even before that, I've always been good."

Slowly, like he was already regretting his decision, he nodded. Sakura got up and walked to the back of his armchair, determined to show him that she really was a good masseuse. He craned his neck to glimpse her and she detected some hesitancy in the way his shoulders tensed up.

"Have you ever been to the spa?" she asked, looking down at his thick head of hair. It was different from looking down at Yamada Shoji's longer, black one. Syaoran had broader shoulders, too.

"Spas are for women," he told her.

She smiled. That was something her brother would say.

"It's for everyone," she said, resting her hands lightly on his shoulders, his cotton t-shirt like butter beneath her palms. "Especially for men who have stressful jobs and need to unwind."

"Wrong. That's what bars are for."

Her smile widened and she sank her fingers into his shoulders a few times before asking, "Is this enough pressure? Li-san?"

Seconds passed before he answered.

"No."

She applied more and he exhaled heavily.

"Better."

Bit by bit, Syaoran loosened up under her hands. She felt his lean, knotted muscles unraveling with her touch. Felt them flex as he moved. Felt his deep breaths as he breathed. After having seen him keep women at bay, he was actually letting her get close. There was a small sense of victory in Sakura though it was felt strange to be proud over such a thing. Syaoran sank forward, calm and languid. She peeped over him and saw that his eyes were shut.

A giddy sensation washed over her and completely forgetting the television show, she focused on kneading the muscles in his shoulders and neck, paying attention to every involuntary, sharp intake of breath he made so she could get her technique just right for him. A temptation to slide her hands down his chest invaded her but Sakura kept her hands where they were. Her control did not extend to her mind however, which kept picturing him without his t-shirt on.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, thinking about what could possibly happen between them. Maybe she was going about their relationship the wrong way. He was young. They both knew the rules. She could use this time with him to catch up to all the things she never experienced at school or anywhere her watchful brother was likely to show up. Frankly, it was embarrassing how old she was and how little she had done in certain areas of her life. And it was not like anything she and Syaoran did was going to cross a line anyway. He was easy on the eyes, he always smelled clean, he was polite now - what more could she ask for? They probably would not see each other again after these two weeks.

She paused her ministrations on his shoulders and rotated her aching wrists.

"You're stopping?" asked Syaoran, looking round at her.

"I'm not a professional," she apologized. "My hands are sore. Especially my thumbs. I'll start again soon."

He reached over the back of the chair and took her by the wrist.

"What?" she asked, face warming instantly from the skin to skin contact.

She had dreamed a similar touch just last night. A nameless, faceless touch, and she had woken up sweaty and yearning, not to mention unsettled. What was worse was that the first thing, idea, _person_ that popped into her mind was Li Syaoran. It had taken her two hours to fall back asleep as she tried to make sense of it all. Usually she was annoyed whenever her dreams dwindled into nothingness but she had been glad that this one had faded to the point where she wondered if she ever really had it.

Was it natural to be so attracted to someone? So much so, your mind created things it should not? With Yukito her captivation had been so childlike and pure but with Syaoran, it was carnal and entirely unchaste. But could she blame herself for that? Could she even blame him?

He guided her around the chair to face him.

"Sit," he told her.

Sakura's mouth fell open.

"On your lap?" she asked, eyes glued to his crotch.

Syaoran glanced at the coffee table behind her legs. It only took a second for her to wish she could go back in time and clamp a hand over her big mouth.

"I didn't think," she said, backing up closer to the table.

Syaoran released her and she lowered herself lightly onto the glass.

Wordlessly, he took her right hand in his and she stared, mesmerized, as he massaged the back of her wrist with his thumbs before turning her hand over to massage her palm. He went slow and steady, paying as much attention to her as she had been paying to him and that made her have to wrestle down a huge grin from spreading across her face.

Now and again, their eyes would meet and her breath would catch _every_ _single_ _time_. It was unbelievable that someone who could render her motionless could make her heart beat so fast she thought it would fly out of her chest.

"Where did you learn to do this?" she murmured, as one by one he pulled down on the fingers of her left hand.

"I practice kung fu," he told her. "My hands can take a good beating at times. Massaging them helps the aches."

"You massage them yourself?"

"No. Wei does it."

"Who's that?"

"The friend I bought the watch for."

"Oh. I see. And how long have you been practicing?" she asked.

Syaoran's eyebrows furrowed.

"Since I was five."

"So young?! Weren't your parents afraid you would get hurt?"

"Not so much," said Syaoran. "I had a bad temper. Wei taught me kung fu because he believed it would help with my tantrums. Father approved. Mother went along. Beginning young is not unheard of. It's better that way."

"So did it help?"

"I became more disciplined. I no longer shout and break things. It's been over a decade since I last lashed out. Yes. I think it-" He paused his stroking of her little finger and looked deeply into her eyes, his own full of meaning. "I don't hit girls, courtesan."

"I never said you did," said Sakura, fighting the urge to squirm.

"You were thinking it."

"Nooo."

"Don't bother lying. Your face shows everything."

He started making sweeping strokes up and down her forearm before he switched and did the same thing to the other. She realised far too late to prepare herself, but that signalled the end of the massage. When Syaoran finished, he took both her hands in his and kept them cradled there like they were porcelain ornaments.

"Thank you," she said.

At any moment, she knew, he would drop her hands and head back to his office. But she did not want him to let go of her. His hands were slightly rough but strong and warm, and the way they felt holding hers, oddly enough, was reassuring. It was as if his own strength was pouring into her and she felt bolder already.

"I've been meaning to tell you that you have a beautiful apartment," she said, cutting the silence to hear his voice.

Syaoran, looking intently at her hands, said, "How could you know? You hardly ever move from this living room."

"That's because I don't want to break anything. I can be clumsy."

"What's the worse that could happen if you do break something?"

"I could end up owing you millions," she said. "And since I don't have that kind of money, I'd probably end up in jail or something."

Syaoran looked at her like she was daft.

"You think I'd send you to jail for a broken vase?"

"I'm not sure. Honestly, I'm kind of intimidated by you," she confessed. Then she added jokingly, "Even though I'm your elder."

"Elder?"

"We're the same age," she explained. "But your birthday is July thirteenth and mine is April first. I'm like three months older than you."

He breathed out wearily and leaned back in his chair, taking his hands with him. Sakura's fingers curled into each other to mourn their loss.

"You've been researching me."

Sakura's chest tightened at the abrupt accusation.

"No, I-"

"What did you find?" snapped Syaoran.

Sakura stared at him with a sense of uneasiness and dread. It had all been going wonderfully. Why did she have to always talk so much?

"I didn't research you," she tried to clarify. "I typed your name into a web browser and I read whatever came up."

Syaoran got a 'what's the difference?' expression on his face.

"What did you find?" he repeated.

"I read up on the types of companies you own," she said. "Just so I can understand if you mention something about one of them."

He folded his arms.

"What else?"

She gulped.

"You have charities."

"And?"

She spoke quietly this time.

"Your father died in a car crash when you were nine."

The muscles at the corners of his jaw pulsed.

"And?"

"Li-san-"

"_And_?"

"What do you want me to say?" she asked, her stressed heart thumping hard.

"That you didn't look me up to see my charities or businesses, courtesan," said Syaoran. "You looked me up to see how much money I have."

She glanced away. She had been curious. Anyone would be.

"Tell me," he said. "How much am I worth?"

"A lot," she replied.

"You want me to believe you didn't get a number?"

"I did," said Sakura, who did not want to lie. She sighed. "It's not a big deal that I looked."

"Would you like me to see how much money is in _your_ bank account?"

She cringed.

"No."

"That's why you offered to give me a massage," he told her, rather than asked. "I found it unexpected. I must look more appealing now especially compared to your millionaire _friends_."

"That's not true."

"Really."

Sakura could not tell the exact thoughts Syaoran had in his head but whatever they were, they were harsh and stinging her like a horde of incensed wasps.

"Are you angry with me?" she asked. "I mean, anyone could search for you online. If it makes you feel better I don't know how much money you have. Different sites say different things. And it wouldn't matter if I knew anyway because I'm not some girl out to get you for your money. I'm a courtesan. I know my place. Besides, you can say goodbye forever unless you want to see me again, remember?"

"Certain things should be kept private," he said, after a moment had passed. "Certain things should not be posted for the world to see. I am not a celebrity. Nor have I ever desired to be one."

Sakura got the feeling he was not really speaking to her but she said, "I get that. And you're right. The media can be too invasive."

He stood abruptly and she tilted her head up to look at him, thinking she might deserve a little of what he was going to say.

"Look, I-"

He stopped and glanced away from her, as he sorted out something in his head. It was taking an awful long time and Sakura could not wait. She needed to keep the peace.

"Li-san. I'm sor-"

"I'm not angry with you," he told her, his eyes holding hers fast. "Only with what you did. You were correct to say anyone can do it but I have detested the blatant invasion of my privacy almost all my life. So I do what I can to limit that encroachment. I prefer you don't look me up again. If you have a question, ask. Let me decide to answer it or not."

"Okay. I understand. And Li-san," she said, before he could walk away. "I really did read up on your businesses. If you ever want to talk about work again or you want another massage, you know where to find me."

She hesitated and he caught it.

"Something else?" he asked, almost robotically.

"Ano..."

Sakura rose to her feet, saw they were too close and tried to quickly step back. Her calves hit the table and she tipped backwards. She gasped loudly, and shut her eyes tight, preparing for the impact of her back on glass. But as fast as she had started falling backwards, she changed direction and her front hit something solid. She clutched what was in front of her and felt a familiar material.

"Careful," came Syaoran's steady voice.

That was when she noticed the arm snug around her waist. She peeked up at him, a deep blush burning through her cheeks. She loosened her grip on his t-shirt and would have stepped back if he had not been holding her so securely. Like she was important to him. Like she was everything. She shook her head of silly thoughts.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Hai."

Still, he did not let go and she did not try to get him to. Why would she? He felt like a sunny Sunday morning and she could curl up in a cozy bed and sip on hot chocolate all day, bathing in his rays. When his hand glided down to her lower back, fingertips poised at the gentle rise of her butt, her knees trembled.

Syaoran edged back slightly and her head cleared.

"What was so urgent to say, you almost injured yourself?" he asked.

"I - well b-before I was going to say, um, well, I've been meaning to tell you," she tried to say, "that if you want to do anything on the package… um, anytime you're ready, you can."

Sakura saw a hundred questions flash across his face but he asked one.

"Did Matsushita tell you something?"

She shook her head.

"But you don't want to do those things," he reminded her.

"I've been thinking about how I acted before," she said. "I should have been more professional about it all. And, you were kind of right about Matsushita and the way I see it, I may have other dates like this one someday so I might as well get used to it now. With you."

"Because at least I'm not old enough to be your grandfather?" he asked.

A long pause swelled between them. Syaoran dropped his arm from around her and took a few steps in the direction of the kitchen. He ran a hand through his hair. He faced her, his eyes looking her over and excitedly, Sakura saw some positive appraisal there. She clasped her hands in front of her and smiled softly, trying to look as cute as was humanly possible.

"You _shouldn't_ be-"

Syaoran averted his gaze and nodded to himself before attempting to speak to her again.

"Listen, I may have been hasty selecting this Indulgence package," he said to her. "It was offered and in a rare moment of poor judgement on my part, I took it. But it's not necessary for me nor is it something I really want. Let's continue to talk like we did today and finish off our arrangement. Nothing more. I don't want _anything_ more."

Sakura swallowed, her self-esteem taking a dive off a cliff.

"_Okay_!" she said, voice high-pitched and a cheery grin plastered on her face. "No problem!"

"Good," said Syaoran and he strode off to his office.

Sakura glanced around waiting for an imaginary audience to start laughing raucously. Met with only the sound of the television, she sat primly on the couch, embarrassment choking her lungs.

* * *

A/N

Hey Tomodachi! What are you waiting for? Next chapter's waiting! Surprise! ^_^


	11. Teetering on the Edge

**Chapter Eleven**

**Teetering on the Edge**

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

The refrigerator shelves were filled with an assortment of colourful fruit lined up neatly in clear plastic bags. Sakura shifted some around so she could see all that was there. Syaoran had made groceries. Or more likely, the service staff had restocked his refrigerator for him. She held back a smile. She highly doubted her billionaire snob had ever pushed a grocery cart in his whole life.

Her smile slipped off her face as she thought of him, and she froze bent over as she was, staring unseeingly at the shelves. The weekend had passed, Syaoran had worked through both days, and she had worked really hard too... pretending she was not hurt by his direct rejection of her. Courtesans were supposed to be practically irresistible but clearly she was not at that level yet. He really was the most difficult person to figure out.

A bag of bright red strawberries caught her eyes, drawing her out of her thoughts. They looked excruciatingly sweet and so, she eagerly gathered some in a small bowl. Syaoran's refrigerator was so stock full, the odds of him noticing she raided his stash of fruits were low. She was about to go back to the living room when a drawer with what looked like keypads caught her eyes.

She gave her surroundings a quick glance before she bent down and opened it. Cool air came rushing out into her face, causing her to pull back a little. There was a row of five wine bottles, the liquids in each of varying hues. She rest down her bowl of strawberries and carefully picked up one of the bottles. She did not even bother trying to pronounce the French words printed on the label.

"Ten o'clock is rather early, courtesan."

Sakura gasped as the bottle slipped from her hands. Her natural reflexes alone was what prevented a disaster of shattered glass on the kitchen floor. She hugged the caught bottle to her chest and sighed. Then, timidly, she looked at Syaoran and forced a smile. He shook his head as he walked over to her. She set the bottle on the kitchen counter and stepped back.

"I was just looking."

He spotted her strawberries and she shifted uneasily. She still was not used to 'making herself at home' yet.

"I felt like having a snack. If that's alright?"

Syaoran casually snatched the wine bottle up and read the label.

"You were going to drink that," he said, indicating to the berries, "with this?"

"No," said Sakura, hoping he did not think she was an alcoholic. "I was just looking. I've never noticed that drawer before and I wanted to know why it had those keypads on it."

"It's a wine cooler," said Syaoran, carefully putting the bottle back in its place. "But you probably figured that out by now."

He selected a different bottle, one containing a rose coloured wine, and tore off the foil wrapping around the cork and neck. Opening a drawer and taking out a wine bottle opener, he started twisting the cork out.

"Bring me a glass from the second cupboard behind you," he told Sakura, and she quickly brought one to him.

"This is an Italian sparkling wine," he told her as the cork popped loose, a slow smoky vapour issuing from the bottle's mouth. "It's slightly sweet. It'll bring out the flavour in the strawberry."

He filled the glass until it was about a third full and watched her expectantly. Sakura took it and stared up at him, awaiting further instruction.

"Try it," he told her, resting the wine bottle on the counter.

She nodded and made to drink when Syaoran said, "_With_ the strawberries, courtesan."

She blushed and reached for the berries but his hand got to the bowl before hers. He plucked one from the bowl and very deliberately, held it out in front of her lips.

"Have a bite," he told her, a spark of intensity flashing in his eyes.

Sakura shifted her attention from the fruit to him, then back to the fruit again. It was unreal, him basically offering to feed her from his hand. Was she silly, thinking that this moment seemed rather intimate? Sensual?

"I don't have all day," he prodded.

Her eyes widened and she nodded. Swallowing, she leaned forward and parted her lips.

"A big bite," he added, his unwavering stare consuming her.

Her jaw slackened and the firm, hard flesh of the strawberry slipped past her lips. The more her mouth opened, the more she cursed herself for choosing out the biggest of the lot. When her lips grazed the tips of Syaoran's fingers, she bit down and pulled back.

She chewed, a thin sliver of juice flowing past the corner of her lips. She felt it, cold on her skin but Syaoran's eyes were so paralyzing she could not move her hand to brush it away. A sizzling heat in his stare, he commanded, "_Drink_."

His words were strings to her hand and it was only then that it moved, touching her glass to her lips. Taking a mouthful, bursts of bubbles and flavour exploded on her tongue. When the delicious combination slid down her throat, Syaoran edged closer. Holding up his hand again, he did not need to say anything. Sakura immediately inched nearer to the half-eaten fruit, her gaze tethered to his. Again she opened her mouth. He slid the remainder of the strawberry past her lips and as she brought them together, she unavoidably - or so she told herself anyway - sucked ever so lightly on the tip of his thumb and first two fingers. He breathed in sharply and she drank again to conceal her reddening cheeks.

She wiped strawberry juice off her chin with the back of her hand, aware Syaoran was avidly observing her.

"Did you like that?" he asked, breathlessly.

"What?" asked Sakura, thinking he was referring to his fingers in her mouth and not sure how she was going to tell him that she did.

"Did the wine go well with the strawberries?" he enunciated.

"Yes." She took a deep breath. "I liked it. A lot."

He bent over so his face was nearer to hers and he gave her a most improper once-over.

"You can have some more whenever you want," he said.

The last three words were spoken with an indecent edge but a delighted chill raced up her spine. Then she felt something brush against her neck. It was Syaoran's breath, flowing across her skin, warming the spot where it curved into her shoulder.

"Next time, you can try dipping the strawberries in whipped cream."

There was some mischief in that statement but she had no idea why he was amused by that.

She gulped.

"You're very generous."

"I like to give," said Syaoran to her shoulder, the side of his head knocking into hers gently.

Something in the air suggested they were not talking about goodwill. Not anymore. Which was confusing. Why was he flirting when he was not interested in her? Why did his words have to conjure up dirty images in her mind? Why did her toes want to curl even though she knew he was not being serious?

He breathed in.

"You smell nice."

Steam flew out her ears.

"It's my body lotion," she told him as his nose grazed her neck.

"It smells like vanilla."

"It's-"

Sakura broke off, mouth parted in a silent gasp. His nose touched her. She was sure of it! Her eyes were drifting close and unconsciously, she pulled her neck to the side to give him more access and he took it, his nose gliding up and down her skin smoothly as he breathed her in, making her so sensitive she could feel every particle in the atmosphere. She tried to speak again.

"It's meant to be edible," she slurred.

Syaoran pulled his head back and looked her in the eyes, long and hard. Her heart pounded painfully against her ribcage. He must think she had engineered all of this to seduce him. He did think the worse of her. But she must have been wrong because he did not look spiteful or irritated at all. He was just watching her. Thinking.

"You wear edible body lotion for all your clients?" he asked.

She took another sip of wine.

"No…. No. It's new. The salesgirl recommended it. She said it's very popular and that girls buy it for their boyfriends."

Suddenly, Syaoran's face turned cool and distant. He drew back, releasing her from his spellbinding shade.

"Since when do you have a boyfriend?"

"I don't," rushed Sakura. She inwardly grimaced. Why did she have to make that perfectly clear? She could have played it all mysterious. She rest her wine glass on the counter. "Well, you know what, I guess in a way I kind of do."

Syaoran shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks and gave her a dispassionate stare.

"You're not sure?"

Sakura shook her head, her windpipe choked with apprehension.

"No. It's just that you selected the girlfriend package and in a way, I'm your girlfriend. So in a way, I guess you're my… boyfriend?"

She waited, curious and yet fearing how he would respond. Syaoran's lips twitched and he looked away briefly before asking, "You bought it for me?"

"I-" Sakura was going to say 'I guess' but she decided to go with what she knew to be true. "Yes."

"You want me to taste it?"

She shrugged, noncommittally.

"If you want. But it's okay if you don't."

He made no movement towards her and she took that as her exit cue.

"What should I do with the rest of the wine?" she asked, refilling her glass halfway.

"I'll take care of it," said Syaoran. "Go on. Get back to your precious celebrity shows. You probably missed two shirtless guys already."

She smiled and picked up her bowl of strawberries.

"Don't be jealous," she said playfully as she strutted off. Then astounding herself, she added, "It's not their fault they woke up hot and you woke up smart."

A sharp slap landed on her left butt cheek, sending a sizzling sting through her cotton skirt, deep into her core. She spun around to find Syaoran standing unmoving, his expression seesawing between shock and unbridled excitement. Sakura's intention was to tell him it was okay but instead, a shy smile crept onto her face, her butt still feeling the imprint of his hand and enjoying every second of it. Syaoran's eyebrows lifted and mortified by her encouraging reaction, she hurried into the living room on shaky legs.

* * *

The climate in Syaoran's apartment had shifted. The last couple of days, there had been a frisky, spirited quality about it - one that made Sakura and him exchange impish glances, full of naughtiness they both pretended not to notice. Things had relaxed to the point where she had asked him if he wanted to have dinner together before she left for the night. Without a second thought, he had said yes.

There was a Japanese styled dining area in his apartment and that was where Sakura had the hotel staff lay out the dishes she had ordered. Syaoran sat down opposite her as she uncovered them, unleashing their mouthwatering aromas.

"Let's eat," he said.

"Itadakimasu!" she exclaimed happily.

A small smile crossed his face as he picked up his bowl of rice. Looking around at all the food, Sakura thought that if her brother's best friend Yukito was there, nothing would go to waste. She and Syaoran could not possibly finish all of this on their own. She bit back a grin wondering what the men in her life were up to.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Syaoran, suspiciously, as he picked up some steamed carrots with his chopsticks. He chewed, his eyes fixed on her expectantly.

"I was thinking about onii-chan's best friend, Yukito-kun. He eats a lot. Only he could eat all this food and still have room for more."

"You like this best friend?" asked Syaoran, returning his chopsticks to his bowl of rice.

Sakura gasped. How did Syaoran know?

"I used to, when I was in elementary school and he was in high school. I even confessed my feelings to him at a school fair."

She squeezed some lemon on the lobster in front of her but looked up when she felt a hard stare on the top of her head. Syaoran was idly pushing his rice around in his bowl however, not paying her any mind. Was she losing it?

"But," said Sakura, setting the lemon piece down. "He convinced me that my feelings for him were similar to those I felt for my father. I told him I agreed with him but honestly, the feelings I had for him were different. I really did love him in that special way only a ten-year old could."

She gave a nostalgic sigh.

"He was my first love. Sometimes when I see him, my heart still beats like crazy but I know we're not meant to be together now. I've moved on."

She looked up and met Syaoran's eyes.

"You _should_ move on," he said. "No use dwelling on the past."

Sakura nodded and took a sip of red wine. Syaoran was very elegant when he ate. It was like watching an emperor dine, the way his wrists glided up to his mouth then back down to his bowl, his fingers holding his chopsticks with utmost poise. One of those same hands had slapped her on the bottom. She twisted, feeling her blood grow hot. He had not done that again but that did not mean she did not make herself available for it. Like when they were in the kitchen together and she was looking for something, she would bend from the waist so her butt was in the air. She had even started wearing more fitted skirts and dresses to persuade him the way Kazumi might have done if she was his courtesan. Then again Kazumi, most likely, would have him eating out the palm of her hand by now.

There were things that girl had taught her when she was a new courtesan, things she had tried not to internalise because it was not necessary for her _then_ job description, but apparently had taken to heart nevertheless. Sakura held in a giddy smile as she tried to recall them. What was she becoming? She did not even like Syaoran like that. He was a client. She definitely was not getting a crush.

Syaoran was eating his rice, brow furrowed in some deep thought he did not seem keen on sharing. By now, she had come to realise he liked absolute, graveyard silence but too much of it made her edgy. He would possibly hate her for ruining his peace but she needed to feel like there was a fellow human being sitting opposite her.

"Have you ever been in love, Li-san?" she asked.

The question made his head snap up.

"Excuse me?"

"Love. Have you ever been in love?"

He had the blankest look she had ever seen on someone's face.

"Butterflies in your belly when you see that special someone," she explained. "You always want to be around them, see them smile. Always want to talk to them and always have them on your mind. When they have a bad day, you have a bad day. No matter how much time you spend with that person, you always want more? To know more. See more. Feel more?"

"Feelings can put you in trouble," said Syaoran. "It's not worth it to unquestioningly follow your emotions. It's best to be logical about things. Think about what you need and want in a partner and then find the best possible person. You'll fare better."

"So you've never been in love?" asked Sakura in surprise.

Syaoran sent her a dull glare.

"That's all you gathered from what I said?"

"Being in love is wonderful," she sighed, already lost in dreamland. "It's one of the best feelings in the world. I can't wait to fall in love again. When you're in love, it feels like eternal sunshine no matter how bleak and cloudy a day you had."

Syaoran made a sound similar to a discreet snort but she ignored it. He was no convert but his healthy appetite made her smile. Where did he and Yukito put it all? She discreetly put her hand over her belly and grimaced. She could already feel it bulging.

"That guy, your brother's friend," said Syaoran, uncovering a pot of soup. "He's the only man you've ever... had feelings for? Or are there more?"

"He's the only one."

"What was it about him?"

Sakura's shoulders rose and she gazed up to the heavens, grinning.

"He has a wonderful smile! He always smiles. And he's kind, gentle and sweet. He always tries to make others feel better and he's very good-looking. But you know, despite that he's very grounded and sociable and would talk to anyone... there's just something unbelievably perfect and untouchable about him - like an angel, descended from above to grace us mere mortals- "

"Are you sure you don't still feel for him?" asked Syaoran, his face taking on a familiar aloofness.

Sakura nodded solemnly.

"I'm sure. In fact, next week I-"

She paused.

"What?" asked Syaoran, pausing as he spooned soup into a bowl.

She shook her head but he did not let it go.

"Say what you were going to say," he told her. "Next week, you what?"

"Well," said Sakura, her voice taking on a feather-like quality. "My father is setting me up with guys he thinks would make good husbands for me." She blushed, and stared down at the emptying dishes on the table. "He teaches archaeology at a university so he knows a lot of great guys. I've been out with one or two already and next week, I have a blind date with another one. He's a civil engineer. Otou-san says he's very intelligent and has a friendly disposition."

"You're a little young to be thinking about marriage, aren't you?" asked Syaoran.

Sakura frowned.

"Nooo. My mother got married at sixteen. I mean… some of your sisters are married right?"

"Two."

"How old were they when they got married?"

Syaoran parted his lips, thought about it and shut his mouth.

"We are not talking about my sisters or your mother, courtesan," he said, testily. "We're talking about you."

"Well, no I don't think I'm too young. I want to get married and have kids. Among other things."

"You're already thinking about kids?" he asked, flabbergasted.

"Yes. I want lots of kids."

"Exactly how many's a lot?"

"About five."

He gawked at her, his soup bowl tipped precariously in his hand, liquid sloshing dangerously close to its edge.

"Don't look at me like that," she said, defensively. "You have four sisters!"

"Doesn't mean I want to raise five kids," he muttered.

"Well you can raise how much ever you want," she said plainly. "And I'll raise how much I want."

Syaoran looked momentarily confused, almost like they were no longer talking about the same thing but then he nodded.

"That's right."

"Of course if my husband only wants three, I won't make him give me two more," said Sakura.

"How kind," said Syaoran, dryly.

She shivered in glee.

"Maybe it's because I grew up without a mother, but I want to be the best mom ever. Give what I never had, I suppose."

She took a second helping of lobster picturing days of taking her kids to the park like her father had taken her when she was younger; teaching them to rollerblade like he had taught her to rollerblade.

"It's not only clients who can take advantage of you. You're aware of that right?" asked Syaoran, seriously. "Those men are on their best behaviour because your father is introducing them to you and it's the first date. They may not be as great as they initially appear."

"Clients are bad... men my father know are bad… where are the good guys?"

"Are you being smart with me?"

"Nope," she said with a big grin. "Don't worry. I trust Otou-san. Who has better interests for me than him? Besides all the guys so far have been smart and kind and nice even though there were no great connections between us. But some things take time. I will surely find someone special."

Syaoran eyed her skeptically.

"There are many wonderful men in the world," countered Sakura. "I don't believe all are already taken or married. Somewhere there is someone just for me and even if you don't believe that I do. He would be my number one and I will love him even though you think love is problematic and nonexistent. It's only a problem if you're too full of yourself or too scared to open yourself up to someone, to let them see how imperfect you are and risk them rejecting you because of it."

She stopped, breathing deeply. Then realising what she had said and who she was speaking to, she paled.

"I'm sorry."

Syaoran finished off his soup and set the bowl down. He looked at her with something akin to pity.

"You're really one of those."

"One of what?" she asked.

"Romantics," he said. "Happy to be every man's doormat in search of that elusive Prince Charming. One of my sisters is just like you. You know what she attracts? Losers and batterers and takers. She's always in some whirlwind romance and at the end, all that remains are tears."

"True love does exist," said Sakura more weakly than she intended. "My parents had it. I can too."

Syaoran emptied his glass of wine. The look on his face as he swallowed suggested it was foul but she thought it was quite good.

"You are free to believe in whatever you wish," he told her.

"Why are you so pessimistic about it?" she asked. "Weren't your parents happy together?"

She almost retracted her question remembering he said his father had mistresses but Syaoran folded his arms, his face masked with some emotion and she wanted to know what that was.

"No marriage is perfect," he said. But then a small smile graced his lips. "My father was perfect to me though."

She grinned.

"What was he like?" Then, "You don't have to tell me…"

Syaoran gazed at the wall behind her, his mind far away for a moment.

"He was very charismatic," he said, looking at her. "Very eloquent, very self-assured, magnanimous. When he spoke to you, when he looked you in the eyes, the world around you seemed to vanish and you believed _everything_ he said. He knew everyone and everyone knew him. Everyone adored him. Women especially."

Syaoran squinted.

"But I prefer we not talk about him."

"Because it still makes you sad?" asked Sakura. "How he died?"

"It was a long time ago."

"It's okay to still be sad," she said. "I get sad about my mother sometimes and I don't know her at all."

All the arrogance Syaoran possessed was summed up in one biting blink.

"I don't get sad."

"Okay Li-san," said Sakura. "You don't get sad."

He poured some more wine and drank it, his gaze glued to the table. Abruptly, he stood.

"I have to get back to work," he said, stalking off.

Sakura shot to her feet as he got to the doorway.

"Li-san!"

She wanted to say she was sorry for bringing up what must be a painful memory. What would she feel like if her father was snatched away from her so suddenly? She did not think she would ever truly be over it.

"I-"

He was waiting, somewhat impatiently and she bit down on her jaw hard and took a deep breath before lunging at him. Her arms tightened around his waist and she said in one breath, "Even if you don't get sad, I just got really depressed. And I'm really sorry for hugging you without permission."

She tore herself away from him and held her hands behind her back.

"You apologize too often," Syaoran remarked, and though it was a fact, Sakura suspected he said it to take the attention away from his clenching and unclenching fists and his unfocused eyes. Her heart melted.

_You **are** sad._

"I believe it's after eight," said Syaoran.

Sakura knew when she was dismissed.

"I'll get my things."

So in a hurry to not overstay her welcome, she hurried past him. But he caught her around the wrist and drew her towards him. His thumb rubbed her inner wrist tenderly.

"You don't have to go," he said, in a tone one would use when talking about something mundane. "You can spend the night here."

"The night?" asked Sakura.

Did she hear that right?

"I once read on the website that overnight companionship can be requested," he explained, still talking like all of this was ordinary.

"But that's for…"

"I'm aware. And I respect your boundaries."

"I thought you didn't care about the rules?"

"I don't," said Syaoran. "But as I said, I respect _your_ boundaries."

"You'll have to ask Satomi-san."

Syaoran did not appear too pleased about that.

"I want to hear your answer first."

Sakura gulped. She highly doubted Satomi would say yes especially when she did not want anything happening between them for free. However, if he was going to do something unscrupulous, he would have tried something already right?

"If she says yes, then I'll stay. But I didn't bring anything over so-"

"There's a guest bedroom you can use," said Syaoran, his grip on her becoming firmer. "And I'll buy whatever clothes you need in the morning."

His eyes bid her to say yes and as she looked around the large dining room, it was no wonder he was being insistent. In her small flat, she got lonely all the time. He must feel worse in this stadium of a penthouse suite.

"Okay. I'll stay."

"I'll make the call then," he said, pulling his cell from his pocket.

"What if she says no?" asked Sakura.

She saw him thinking of a way to answer her, his thumb poised over the touchscreen keypad of his phone.

"That would be unfortunate," he said, as though it was nothing of consequence though his demeanour stiffened up.

"What if," said Sakura. "You didn't have to call?"

He stared at her, face questioning. She licked her lips, more nervous now that she realised she wanted to stay and that she would not consider that work at all.

"What if I just said yes? No agency? No Satomi-san. I'm basically off the clock. I can do what I want. Stay over by a friend if I want."

"You should always let the agency know where you are," said Syaoran, though he was already slipping his phone into his pocket. "For safety reasons if nothing else. And certainly, you should never stay over by 'friends'."

He drew himself up proudly.

"But you can trust me," he said. "So it's fine that you stay over. Don't do this with anyone else, though."

She shook her head.

"I won't."

"I'm serious."

"I know."

He reached out and lightly stroked her arm with the back of his fingers.

"Good. You wouldn't want them to get the wrong idea. Especially with your hemlines getting shorter every day."

Sakura gasped.

"They aren't-"

"_Yes_. They are." Syaoran got a sly smirk on his face. "I've noticed. You wanted me to. Didn't you?"

Sakura's mouth worked silently.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" he asked.

"Nothing."

It would be embarrassing to admit that his rejection had made her crave his attention more than ever. However, the feeling was nothing new. After Yukito had rejected her, she recalled baking him cookies in hopes he would tell her he made a mistake and that he really liked her back. She must have seemed so pathetic to him then - a nuisance even. Now years later, she was in a slightly similar situation, daydreaming about what it would be like to date Syaoran for real, because bit by bit she was realizing he was nicer than he first seemed, and even though he was not her ideal Prince Charming as he called it, sometimes he would sound like him and act like him.

Even now, she did not feel afraid being alone with him because of that. Because he had been less imposing last week and this week too. She was cautious. Anxious. But not afraid. Did he know it was not only his father who was charismatic? Because he certainly was in his own way and it had a lot to do with his eyes that made the world vanish too. Of course, all her thoughts were just thoughts. Nothing serious could happen between them and she was not sure she would want that anyway. He was hot and cold, calm and turbulent and he switched moods so quick she was barely keeping up.

She was yanked out of her thoughts when she felt Syaoran's fingers disappear from her skin.

"Go finish your dinner," he told her.

"I'm full." She shrugged. "Maybe we can watch a show together. After you're done working?"

Syaoran tilted his head as he looked at her.

"I work until ten."

"And after ten?"

"I go to bed."

Sakura blushed.

"Always?"

"Yes."

She half-smiled to hide her disappointment. What had she been hoping for?

"Would you like to shower?" Syaoran asked, without the smallest inkling of indecency to his tone.

Sakura nodded and he led her into the bathroom - not the one she had been using near the formal living room but one down the hall from his office. Standing inside it, she noted the lack of privacy it afforded. The grand shower was encased in glass all the way around and the bathtub was round and open. He handed her a towel from a tall wooden cabinet.

Syaoran seemed to catch onto what she was thinking because he said, "I won't peek. You can lock the door. See?"

And he demonstrated that the lock really worked.

He walked over to the deep tub and sitting on the wide marble edge, opened up the taps. The water rushed out with ferocity and quickly, the water began to rise. Super hot steam issued from the tub and he closed the faucets when it had filled.

"I don't have any bubble-bath," he told her, getting up.

"That's fine," she said with a smile, moving over to the shower which was her way of letting him know she wanted to be alone now.

"I'll get you something to put on," he said. "You can shower in the meantime."

With that, he left, closing the door behind him.

She locked it and undressed. The shower was more complicated than she was used to but she figured it out eventually and soon she had cold water coming at her from all directions. Giggling, she opened her arms wide. It felt refreshing - like bathing beneath a waterfall she assumed. She did not understand why the shower had to be so massive though. It could fit ten people easily.

She air-dripped and then went over to the tub. Testing the tepid water with her toes, she stepped into it and slid beneath the water with a sigh. When her fingers started to prune, she emptied the tub and wrapped her towel around her body. With scarily perfect timing Syaoran knocked on the bathroom door.

Holding her towel securely, Sakura opened the door a crack. He stared at her for a couple of seconds, his gaze sliding up and down the parts of her body he could see. She moved even more behind the door and he cleared his throat. He held up a pack of briefs, causing Sakura to grow even pinker than she already was from her bath.

"These were too small for me - one of Eriol's practical jokes. They're new of course."

She slipped her hand through the small space in the door and took it.

"Thank you."

He held up a long-sleeved t-shirt.

"And this is mine. It's not new but it's clean."

His eyes seemed to twinkle and she could not help but wonder what silent joke he was having. Then to her dismay, she realized she had washed off what make-up she was wearing. It was not much to begin with but it made a difference. Feeling a bit self-conscious, she bowed her head and took the t-shirt from him, shutting the door. She put everything on and hung up her towel on the rack. She was thankful at least, that the t-shirt almost reached her knees.

Holding the pack of briefs and her clothes, she went outside.

"Bedroom's that way," said Syaoran, pointing down the hallway.

His eyes drank in the sight of her a second time, and she shuffled her feet uneasily and tried to hide her face with her bangs.

"If you need anything, I'm in my office."

"I probably won't," she said, still trying to overcome the horror of him seeing her so casual for the first time. "I'm tired. I think I'll just turn in."

He said nothing and she went to her room for the night, feeling his eyes on her the length of the way.

There was a cozy-looking, queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. There was also a lounge chair, mini-bar, a built-in television and a large and empty walk-in closet. She put the briefs and her clothes in the empty chest of drawers below the television and climbed onto the luxurious silk sheets of the bed. She rolled around in it like a puppy dog. It was unbelieveably soft and cool. She sat on the centre of the bed and stared out at the sparkling array of lights that was Tokyo city, through the large floor-to-ceiling windows. It almost felt like she was sitting on the roof.

She had turned her attention to the television, happy to watch some shows while comfortably lying down for once. Watching television from a bed was always the way to go.

Hours later, when she was having one such forgetful moment, there came a knock at the slightly ajar bedroom door. As she sat up, it swung open, and there Syaoran stood with a small towel around his neck, water from his damp hair dripping onto it. He was changed into a dark green pajamas set. Moonlight illuminated his face, making him appear almost luminescent.

Sakura's breath hitched and her heart hit her hard in the ribs. What was he doing?

"Can I come in?" he asked, his tone hopeful but unassuming.

He seemed harmless right then, boyish even, without his hard glare on his face. But there was a warning alarm sounding in Sakura's head.

"Ano... maybe not, Li-san."

He put his hand on the doorway and for a moment, Sakura thought he was going to enter anyway. It was his apartment after all. He had every right to. She breathed deeply calming her nerves which were highly animated at that point.

"I'll sit on the chair," he told her.

"Hoe..."

She tugged down the hem of his t-shirt that that ridden up to her mid-thigh. She felt her will faltering. She felt like Syaoran expected her to say okay and she felt the word forming on her lips to appease him. All of a sudden his head jerked and he squinted in admonition.

"I'm being presumptuous," he said, mostly to himself. "You're right. I shouldn't come in."

"Are you angry?" she asked.

"No. I'm not angry," said Syaoran, drawing back. "I'll see you in the morning."

He reached into the room and grabbed the door knob.

"Good-night, Li-san," she said.

He nodded and closed the door.

Sakura delved beneath the sheets. Bringing the neck of the t-shirt up to her nose she inhaled the scent of his fabric softener, which basically was his scent - the one she was used to. She stretched out and sighed. A tiny part of her wondered what would have happened if she had let him in. A bigger part, one that was becoming reckless, regretted that she did not.

* * *

Hey Tomodachi! Hope you enjoyed the double update. Thank you again signed reviewers and anonymous reviewers Guest, reader, abcdef (Syaoran informed me he cannot wait anymore and whether I like it or not, **_it's going down_ **next chapter, your welcome), fangirl, Sabrina (you want longer chapters?!), Guest (you actually made me double update, by saying you were ready to read the next chapter but saw there was no more lol. don't try that again!), 001, aisora14 (yup, she really needs a spine. too bad that unlike in the anime she doesn't have Kero to stick up for her whenever Syaoran bullies her or makes her feel bad), Guest, reader, Reader and raz3r.

Read and Review. Syaoran's POV next chapter. Oh and no more long work hours for me! ^_^


	12. The Point of No Return

**Chapter Twelve**

**The Point of No Return**

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

Early morning sunlight poured into the dining room without restraint. Syaoran stood facing the floor-to-ceiling windows, cell phone in his hand, screening the photos from Meilin's Dolce and Gabbana perfume ad campaign with the focus of a narcotic detection dog. So far, they were proving to be as appropriate as she had claimed.

A few years back she and his sisters had thought a photoshoot with her practically simulating sex positions with two male models had been 'provocative art.' Needless to say he had given the photographer and creative director hell, Meilin had been replaced with a model who clearly had few standards for herself, and the fashion house whose clothes Meilin had (barely) been wearing never worked with her again. As for her, she did not speak to him for a week.

Like he cared.

If those pictures had come out on the front page of some magazine, his mother and her father would have exploded in fury. On him. Meilin's mother? Not so much. She was a socialite herself - which was how she became a Li in the first place. The woman liked anything that kept her in the spotlight.

A text popped up on his phone.

_**Do you like them?**_

He shook his head. Meilin could never resist hounding him for an answer before he got a chance to look through all her pictures properly.

_**Yes. You're ravishing. As always.**_

**Mmm. _Drives me crazy when you say ravish_.**

Syaoran would not mind putting actions to his words. This morning he had woken up harder than usual and was raring to go even now. His libido was painfully out of control these days. He was on a constant ten and there was only so much he could do on his own without feeling completely pathetic. As though she knew what he was thinking, Meilin sent another text.

_**I've been thinking about you since I woke up. Filthy, filthy things.**_

Syaoran smiled, his lower half almost skipping in excitement. He wanted more than dirty talk but at this point, he would take anything. Meilin had woken up one day and convinced him they should stop sleeping together until they got married so the honeymoon would be _special_. Syaoran did not understand how abstaining could make it special but if that was what she wanted, he thought he could live with it. Until now. Sure he and Meilin did other things but having to stop short was always frustrating. Yet, it would be weak to go begging for sex especially when she seemed to be dealing with the lack of it so easily. Did women have a manual switch they could turn on and off?

He decided to answer and play her game, despite his peeved thoughts.

*_*How filthy?**_

_**Toxic.**_

_**Tell me.**_

_**Call me tonight and I'll blow your mind. ;)**_

Syaoran considered this. His throbbing member did not want to wait but his brain had very important work to do that morning. Besides, Meilin liked getting her own way and there were times when it definitely paid to give it to her. And how he wanted to _give it to her_ right then for winding him up.

**_I'll call after ten.**_

Something moved in the corner of his eye and Syaoran looked round sharply. His heart almost beat straight out of his chest. Standing in the kitchen near the small breakfast table, bright-eyed and watchful, was the courtesan. From the relieved expression on her face, he deduced she must have been there for a while waiting for him to notice her. Did she just catch him off guard?

"Good morning," she said, edging awkwardly closer, her voice like a brush of velvet across his ears.

The sleeves of his borrowed t-shirt hanged past her fingertips, baggy and cute, and in an instant his gaze was sliding down her slim, shapely legs, crossed at the ankles. She smoothed the back of her hair down and caressed her neck, squinting into the sunlight. Her eyes held a maddeningly seductive twinkle that made his body quiver. It was too early in his day for this level of temptation. Was there a pill she took to make her appear that fuckable? Or was he just that tightly wound this morning?

They both looked at each other for a while, a tense, unsure silence growing between them. Syaoran's attention snapped back to his phone which had pinged twice while he was lost in his courtesan-induced stupor.

_**That's perfect.**_

He ran a hand over the nape of his neck, trying to understand what was perfect. He read over the previous messages, the stark words heavily overshadowed by the living, breathing presence clawing at his back. He focused long enough to type a final reply.

_**Talk to you later.**_

He slipped the phone into his pants pocket and went over to the courtesan. She had barely moved an inch. Last night he had lain in bed thinking what a fool he had been for asking to come into the room with her. It was shocking enough she decided to stay without more coercion on his part and he had almost mishandled the situation by coming across as a pervert.

_Sit on the chair, Xiao Lang? How fucking desperate had you **been**?_

He wisely cleared his throat before speaking.

"I didn't figure you for an early riser."

"I'm not. But the sun woke me up," she told him, her full lips and sensual voice making every mundane word an aphrodisiac.

Syaoran had to call to arms every ounce of concentration he possessed to appear unaffected.

"There's a button to press. The blinds come down over the windows."

"Oh."

She pouted and his body lit up like a firecracker. She could not be that naive. She _must_ be aware of these flirtatious signals she was putting out. For the umpteenth time he wondered if he was going crazy.

"Ano… did you sleep well?" she asked.

Syaoran parted his lips but paused. Was she trying to be smart again? The girl he had dreamed about fucking every which way for close to two months was sleeping feet away from him in an unlocked room, wearing his clothes. _No_ he did not sleep well.

"As well as I could," he answered, at length. Then, to change the topic and save his sanity, he asked, "Are you hungry?"

"Hai."

"What do you want to eat?"

"Scrambled eggs?"

His pocket vibrated and he pulled out his phone. His assistant Hu Ming was calling.

"I'll have eggs as well," he said, letting the call ring out. "You can take care of breakfast, right?"

"Hai," she said, practically standing at attention. "Leave it to me, Li-san. Oh and um, I took one of the toothbrushes in the bathroom cabinet."

"You look like you're apologizing for stealing it."

"I didn't know you were awake," she said. "I would have asked first. I wanted to be presentable, you know, before you saw me for the day. But I don't want you to think I was going through your things."

"You're my guest," said Syaoran, in earnest. "Use whatever you need."

He walked past her and their hands made contact. Fiery pinpricks of pleasure burst across his skin and skipped up the entire length of his arm. It was confirmed. He _was_ losing it.

Before he became completely unhinged, he went to his office and returned Ming's missed call so she could go over his schedule for the day with him. Then he called Eriol to discuss their strategy for a meeting that afternoon and of course, it ended with him hanging up on the man because his third cousin could never stay focused for long. Not shockingly, he wanted to know why Syaoran was not showing up at the office, and Syaoran did not want to make up lies Eriol would poke holes through in a second simply because he was just that experienced at being intrusive.

Speaking of which, Syaoran had searched himself online to see exactly what the courtesan had been reading about him. He had found mostly business related articles and such. He had also searched the images of himself and was relieved that they were mostly pictures of him alone or with other businessmen at functions and one or two with his mother. She had discovered nothing that really mattered and with that, he had breathed easy.

His stomach started to grumble and he left his musings to go see if breakfast had arrived. The scent and sounds of hot oil frying egg and what smelled like sausage hit him in the face as he neared the kitchen. He slowed, perplexed, and as he stepped out of the hallway, he saw the courtesan using his pans and cooking utensils. She dished some sliced sausages onto a large plate beside which was another plate piled high with toast.

She saw him and froze, the frying pan in one hand and a spatula in the other.

"I'm almost done," she promised, hurriedly.

He continued watching her cook the eggs, certain she had made this exact meal before. It showed in the ease with which she handled the timing of it all perfectly. He had seen many chefs in action but none had ever looked like her and none had ever been so... captivating.

She filled a plate with the eggs and placed the spatula and pans in the sink. Syaoran moved over to the kitchen island and looked at the spread.

"You made breakfast," he said.

The courtesan spun around and met his puzzled gaze with a wary one.

"Hai…"

"You didn't have to," he told her. "You could have ordered it up."

Her face was of one who had realised a horrible mistake had been made.

"I thought this was what you wanted," she said, shoulders drooping.

Syaoran cocked his to one side.

"What led you to that conclusion?"

She wiped her hands dry and said slowly, like she was trying to explain it to herself as much as him, "Well this is the Girlfriend Experience. I know that when the other girls stay over they offer to make breakfast. But a gourmet breakfast would be better. I should have asked before I made this."

She looked down at her food, degrading it with a single stare before heading for a drawer behind him.

"I'll check the menu," she said, voice paper thin.

Syaoran's arm shot out and curled around her waist, drawing her to him before she could reach the drawer.

"This is good enough," he said, giving her a gentle squeeze around the middle.

"Are you sure?" she asked, the hand she had just rest over his abs making his temperature skyrocket and his head spin.

"I'm sure," he said, and he risked letting his hand slide down to cup her left butt cheek. He sank his fingertips into it gently, both of them acting like he was not doing so. Syaoran's face could feign indifference well but his lower half was not so accomplished and he pulled his pelvis back a little so she would not feel him rising in his pants. It was unfair how men's bodies betrayed them in ways women's never did.

Yet, he could not free her luscious ass from his hold. It was better than that brief spank the other day. Though he had not planned to be rude, it had been so invigorating to discipline his self-proclaimed girlfriend when she had slighted him. It was just a reaction but since the club he _had_ been thinking about taking her over his knees. The dream was still alive and well because if it felt this good to sink his fingers into her juicy flesh over layers of fabric, he could imagine how it would be to do so with her devoid of all clothing.

He patted her twice and gave a naughty squeeze, making her fist his shirt tight.

"Come on," he said, turning from her. "I'm hungry."

_In more ways than one._

He picked up the three plates, balancing two on one arm like a waiter and took it all over to the small breakfast table. A business associate called and Syaoran spoke with him as the courtesan set the table and brought over some orange juice and tea. She sat down and he gestured to her to start eating and she did. Balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder, he shared out eggs for himself.

"You can eat everything else," she whispered across the table.

He glanced up at her to see if she was starving herself to be generous. She was not. So he piled the remaining eggs and sausages on his plate. Only when his call finished did he take a bite out of his toast and as he ate, he kept the phone in his hand, reading his emails and replying when it was required. The courtesan was furtively eyeing him, waiting to speak with him, and he readily soaked up the undivided attention.

This meal was much better than the one yesterday when she had spoken dotingly about her brother's friend. What was the name? Yukito? She may have convinced herself otherwise but she still had some residual feelings for the guy and though Syaoran had never met him, he was positive the courtesan could do far better.

"Do you ever take a day off?" she asked, when after resting his phone down, he had to pick it up again within seconds.

"No," answered Syaoran.

She stared at him like she was horrified and impressed at the same time.

"Don't you get tired?"

"Sometimes," said Syaoran, looking at some pictures of a hotel under construction. "I take hours off here and there when I want to."

"You'll burn yourself out, you know."

"That's never happened."

"It doesn't mean it won't. You should take a day off. Spend time with your friends and family."

"Is that your professional diagnosis?"

"I guess," she laughed.

Syaoran paused in his readings so his ears could better catch every melody of her effervescent laughter.

"Are you going out today?" she asked, face still shining with mirth.

Syaoran looked down at his black work pants and equally black silk shirt.

"Yes. I have a few meetings to attend."

"What's it like?" she asked, leaning over the table, face full of curiosity. "Owning your own businesses and being able to work where and when you like and travelling all the time?"

"Hectic." Her face fell somewhat and he added, "It's the truth. Jet-lag is real. Learning different languages a pain. Days blur together. Months flash by."

"But you get to see the world and meet new people," she prompted.

"You're the only new person I've met in a long time," said Syaoran, ignoring the magnitude of what that meant for himself. "Work trips are for work. Networking perhaps. But not socializing."

He could have smacked himself on the head. Work trips were not for lusting either. Worse yet, he was actually socializing with his object of lust and was even starting to like having her around. He did not even want to think about how much money he had already spent on this so-called indulgence. At least her cooking saved him on food bills and honestly, breakfast tasted pretty good. But he should not be surprised considering she wanted to get married and spawn a million children soon. An image of some faceless man moving on top her sprang into his mind and he quickly shoved it right back out.

"You don't like getting close to people, do you?" she asked, biting into her toast.

Syaoran's brows lifted.

"Excuse me?"

"Did you have a bad experience with someone? With a courtesan?"

"_No_," said Syaoran. "I don't hire courtesans."

She looked at him funny.

"With the exception of you. Obviously."

"You know a lot about courtesans," she said, apologetically. "So I assumed. And you knew about Matsushita's deals. I thought you...well..."

Syaoran's stare brought a stifling silence over them.

"I don't pay for sex," he said. "Especially not sex with a virgin."

The courtesan sank down on her seat and nodded. Then moments later, "You rather experienced women?"

Syaoran goggled her, speechless. Where the hell did that come from? Were they really discussing his sexual preferences? Realising what she had asked, the courtesan reddened like a traffic light.

"What I meant was… you said especially, so…"

She shifted on her seat, flustered.

"All I was attempting to explain," said Syaoran, steadily. "Was that I would not hire a prostitute. Period. So I definitely would not hire an inexperienced one because that would be even more sordid."

"I see," she said, her face barely concealing her dislike of him using the word prostitute.

She did not look at him after that. He thought about something to say to get back on her good side but it was difficult. Casual conversation was not his forte. That was why he preferred she did the talking. Even though he was not always interested in what she was talking about, he always enjoyed listening to her.

"I looked in the classifieds for another job," she said, at long last.

He had picked up his cup of tea to drink but placed it back down at the unexpected admission.

"After that day at the amusement park," she said, sneaking a self-conscious peek at him. "But, they don't really pay a lot. It's a little hard to work a week for money I could make in less than a day at the Hikaru House. But I'm not addicted to this job as you said I would be."

Syaoran pursed his lips. Denial was a hell of a thing.

"When I save up I'll go back to school and study something. If my brother could put himself through medical school, I can put myself through a vocational school or something like that. A lot of courtesans work to do that you know. Many of them are very intelligent."

Of course they were intelligent, thought Syaoran. Only intelligent women could con the wealthiest men who were supposed to have business acumen, into thinking their vaginas were worth thousands of dollars. They would all probably graduate Summa Cum Fucking Loudly.

He gave a silent groan. It really was that kind of a morning for him.

"Shouldn't you have made enough money by now?" he asked, calculating her possible salary in his head. "Your wage is impressive for your job description."

"The agency takes a cut," she explained. "It sounds like I make a lot but maintaining my wardrobe and appearance has a cost. Clients expect the best and I have to be the best possible version of myself."

Syaoran took a few sips of tea as he listened to her excuses.

"I do forget to save sometimes," she said, pushing her eggs around on her plate idly. "But also, when I started I didn't get many dates because I only offered companionship so, yeah. Then there's my rent. And I have to pay for all the training the Hikaru House gave me. It's expensive learning how to be a lady. But I'll pay that off by the end of next month. And," she sighed, "I don't know why I'm telling you all this."

But Syaoran did. Her choices and decisions were poor ones and rather than admit she had made a terrible mistake and get the hell out, she was trying to convince him and herself that things were not as bad as they seemed. That everything would work out. If she owned a business, it would surely be up in smoke by now.

She caught him staring and bowed her head, touching her face shyly.

"I always forget to walk with my makeup."

"What?" he asked, thrown by the randomness of her statement.

"I don't look as good as yesterday because I forgot my makeup at my apartment. Sorry."

Syaoran almost smiled.

"There's nothing wrong with the way you look right now."

She eyed him with disbelief. Typical girl.

"But I don't look as good as yesterday, right?" she asked, like she _wanted_ him to tell her that her face was repulsive.

"Courtesan," he said, summoning his patience for this insecurity all females seemed to have. "Of course makeup enhances the way you look. But it's refreshing to see you without it as well."

_Like I took you in bed hours ago and you put on my t-shirt to make me breakfast._

"Then thank you," she said, oblivious to his lewd thoughts. "That was very kind of you to say."

Syaoran had the oddest sensation of feeling patted on the head. He finished everything on his plate but remained at the table, pretending to read his emails as he covertly watched the courtesan lick breadcrumbs from her lips.

When he had told her he did not need to do all the things on the Indulgence package, he had wanted that to be true. However, every day it seemed more and more ridiculous to have paid so much for the privilege and not partake. No one but him and her would ever know what they did together. He could give her a short kiss. A fleeting one to enjoy in the moment and forget about by next week. It would be a sample. A taste. Like going to a dealership to test out a car you had no intention of buying. You just wanted to see if it drove well; how long and hard it could be ridden before the engine started to scream.

His crotch tightened at the thought of **her** pleasured screams. Dammit. He should have kissed her when he had fed her the strawberries. He could have blamed it on impulse at the time. But here he was now, premeditating.

"I'll clear the table," said the courtesan, laying down her fork. "And wash up if you're done?"

He nodded and downed what was left of his tea. There were times when it was not enough to think. Times Syaoran felt the urge to act. But those times had mainly been matters of business.

She came around the table, tugged up the sleeves of his t-shirt and leaned over to collect his plate. He had never passed on something he really wanted in his entire life. Nor had it ever occurred to him that there were things he could not have. When you were born to a father as wealthy as his had been, you learned that not even the sky was the limit. There was no such thing as choosing what to have. The idea was have it all.

He swallowed a lump in his throat as she reached for his teacup to pile it on the plate in her hand. She picked up his utensils and turned to leave but he caught his t-shirt at the hem, holding her back.

"You shouldn't have stayed over last night," he told her, in a detached tone. "You should know better than to be so trusting. Even though I said you could trust me."

She looked like a child who was being admonished by a strict parent.

"I realised that after... well, nothing bad happened," she said. "And you let me leave early all the time. It was the least I could do. Plus, Hiiragizawa-san said you were nicer that you seemed."

When had Eriol told her that?

"And you know him so well you took his word for it?" asked Syaoran. "Do you know he's a sadist?"

"I don't think you mean that," she said with a bright smile. "I think he's right about you. I think you're a good person but you come across differently. Because you see, when you're nice, it feels very genuine to me. I think one day I'll get to see the real you and it'll be amazing."

"I think you're delusional," said Syaoran, releasing her and getting to his feet.

He marched off to his bedroom to finish dressing before she could see the hot blush bursting onto his cheeks. It took forever and a day to loop his tie into a decent knot. He almost changed into a suit that did not need one altogether. He threw on his jacket and even the lone button on that was proving problematic and it had everything to do with his shaking hands.

He did not know how but she got to him. She was under his skin in ways few people ever got. From the very first time he laid eyes on her, he knew she was trouble. Everything about her felt too easy. Simple. Harmless. But even more disconcerting was this sudden distaste he had for all things male in her life. The thought of them made him want to grind his teeth into dust. An infatuation with her at best was what he had, he reasoned. A brief interest. Yes. He could deal with that.

When he returned to the kitchen, the courtesan had dried the last dish. He picked his car keys from the hook near the refrigerator and headed for his shoes at the entrance. She approached him just as he had settled his feet in them. Pushing his hand deep in his pocket, he pulled out his wallet and took out a black credit card.

"There are a few boutiques around the corner of this block," he said, handing it to her. "If you ask the doorman, he'll point you in the direction."

She took it in surprise.

"Are you sure?" she asked, holding up the card.

"Yes," he said, even as he wondered why he was giving a stranger access to his bank account. "Buy what you need. The staff will let you back inside when you're done."

He opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He should be halfway to the elevator but stupidly, he lingered.

"I'll see you later then."

_Way to go, Xiao Lang. Very original._

"Please have a great day, Li-san," said the courtesan, smiling cheerfully. "Can I know when you'll be back?"

"After five."

"I'll make sure and be here at that time, then."

His stomach stirred with excitement over the prospect of her sitting on his couch, waiting for him.

"When the phone rings, don't answer," he instructed, firmly.

"I know," she said.

"I suppose you would," said Syaoran, slipping his left hand into his pants pocket - a deliberate attempt to appear nonchalant. "I left my business card on the coffee table. If it's me calling, then you can answer."

"Okay."

Syaoran glanced behind him at the elevator down the hallway. It seemed miles away.

"Is something wrong?" asked the courtesan.

"No," said Syaoran, a second too fast.

He ran a hand through his hair, growing weary with himself.

"You hugged me last night," he said, and left it at that.

"I said I was sorry," she said, shrinking before him.

"It's fine." He averted his eyes. "I didn't mind."

Not at all. How could he complain about having her breasts flush against his chest and her hands tight around his waist? He expected her to gawk at him but instead she gave a tender, knowing smile. What did she know?

"Would you like another one?" she asked.

Syaoran's heart skipped a beat.

"Why would I?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "I like hugs. So sometimes I assume other people like them as much as I do."

"I'm not a fan of them," said Syaoran. "But if _you_ want to, you can hug me."

The courtesan hesitated briefly as she raised her arms. Then she walked into him and enveloped his waist. Unlike last night, he mirrored the motion and pulled her close to him. She looked up into his face at the startling reciprocation and needless to say, he avoided all eye contact. Slowly, her hands stroked his back and he drew a deep breath and held her even closer to him, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

He closed his eyes and his senses erupted with activity. Syaoran would swear to anyone that he could hear every beat of her heart reverberating against his chest, and smell the fruity, day old shampoo scent staining her hair. The tiniest movements she made were overwhelming the touch receptors in his skin, eclipsing his entire world with her presence. His hands fisted and he leaned down to touch his chin to the top of her head. An electrifying tremor shot through him and embarrassed, he yanked himself away.

His chest flew in and out as he met the courtesan's wide, frenzied eyes. She touched her chest, breathing deeply. Did she feel that shock too? He took a cautious step back, his palms sweating.

"I have to go," he told her, breathless, though really his words were for himself.

"Bye," she murmured, slinking farther back into the penthouse.

The tip of her tongue reached out to moisten her lips and he turned on his heels, jaw set. He sped to the elevator before he could touch her again. For if he did, his world as he knew it would meet an untimely end.

* * *

The day had passed with the swiftness of a bullet train. Sakura sat on the living room sofa, a horde of shopping bags drowning her feet. Sephora, BCBG, Chanel, Junya Watanabe, Pucci - she really had no intention of buying so many things. The doorman took pity on her and helped her carry some of the bags to the elevator and she could not thank him enough.

She tapped Syaoran's credit card against her palm. If she left now she could return a lot of the items but the salesgirls had taken so much time helping her shop and bringing her different sizes to try, she just could not say no. To return the items now would be like she had wasted their time.

But it was Syaoran's money and she knew she had overdone it. He had trusted her with his card and look at the mess she had caused. Suppose he thought she was a gold-digger? Wait, he already thought that. Looking around his living room floor right now, covered in bags of clothes, shoes and jewellery, she could not blame him for thinking such a thing.

She had to make a decision and fast. In the end, she decided it was better to disappoint and make the salesgirls displeased with her than it was to make Syaoran feel that way. She was reaching for a shopping bag when the sound of approaching footsteps made her freeze.

_Hoe! Please don't be him. Please don't be him._

But, it _was_ Syaoran walking into the living room. She sprang to her feet, her heart thumping so hard it hurt. She had not seen or spoken to him since that morning. Since she had hugged him and he had hugged her back in a manner that was more intimate than anything she had ever experienced. And it had been so long since she had gotten an embrace, she sank into it and let it consume her. His body had felt so strong and solid, it could be described as a secret haven, blocking out all the harshness of reality for an instant.

That was how a man's touch should be. It was like her father's and brother's. That was what she longed for her most important person to feel like. Comforting. Infinite. But he was a client and she knew he did not feel protective of her or even care that much. He could not control how his body felt against hers. He had pulled away just as a scorching jolt sizzled through her belly, making her heart flutter. He probably thought she was a lunatic holding on so tight and rubbing his back like he was a child.

Sakura bowed her head as Syaoran took in the sight of the shopping bags that blared some of the most expensive brands' names ever. He removed his jacket, still surveying the damage.

The silence was heavy. Sakura gulped.

"Li-san," she uttered sheepishly, palms pressed together in front of her, his credit card between them. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to buy all these things but it just happened. I promise I'll return everything. I don't know what I was thinking. It was just that all the stores were so pretty and the salespeople were so nice to me and... I'm sorry."

Syaoran draped his jacket over a chair back.

"I grew up with four sisters. You really couldn't surprise me."

"So you're not mad?" asked Sakura, doubtfully.

"I would be a fool to think I could give a member of the female species a credit card and not have this happen," he said gesturing to the state of his living room floor.

Sakura rest the card on the coffee table with reverence and moved back to a safe distance.

"I'm still really sorry. I'll take it all back."

"No need for that," said Syaoran.

He reached down and picked up one of the bags. It read: Agent Provocateur.

"What's in here?"

Sakura's eyes widened and she lunged for the blush coloured gift bag. But Syaoran was quick and he lifted it high out of her reach. She watched it swinging in his hand, ready to make another leap for it.

"Please don't look," she said, glancing from Syaoran's face to his hand.

"Why not?" he asked, seeming to enjoy her distress. "I should at least know what I bought you."

"I'll give you the bills," she bargained.

He brought the bag down slowly, hugging it to his side and angling his body away so she could not get to it. He peeked inside and Sakura blurted out, "It's lingerie!"

His eyes snapped to her and she could have died on the spot when his gaze dropped from her face to her body. You could always sense when someone was undressing you with their eyes and that had her squirming.

"Please give it back," she pleaded.

He seemed to think it over before very slowly, pushing the bag into her hands. She clutched it tight to her chest.

"Thank you," she breathed.

Syaoran looked at the bag, before staring straight at her. A roguish glint flashed in his brown eyes.

"Were those also recommended for girls with boyfriends?

Sakura held in a smile and shook her head.

"No," she said, quietly. "I picked these out myself."

"Now I'm even more interested."

She gasped at his slick tone, a sharp heat zigzagging through her chest down to her navel. And he waited, his striking gaze daring her to expose her purchases to him. She almost did. His hand jerked towards her and she thought he was going to grab hold of her but then it went back to his side and stayed there.

"You can see the clothes and shoes I bought," she offered. "Would you like that?"

He gave a nod and went over to the chair his jacket was draped over and sat down. One by one, Sakura took out each article of clothing telling him why she decided on it, what it could go with and apologizing for the price each time. He rest an elbow on the chair arm and leaned his cheek against his knuckles, looking slightly bored in her opinion. But whenever she faltered in her show-and-tell, he would simply say, "Continue."

She was getting into the pretty dresses she bought and the heels to go with them when he leaned forward, cutting her off.

"Hey. Choose something for evening," he said. "And I'll take you out to dinner."

Regarding him from her spot where she had been sitting on the floor, she asked, "But don't you have work?"

"I'm taking some time off," he declared. "I deserve a break. Today I was able to sway two more Yano shareholders."

"Congratulations, Li-san!" she exclaimed. "That was brilliant! I'm sure you'll get the others in no time! I won't show you anymore clothes though because I'm not sure what I'll be putting on tonight. It should be a surprise."

His eyes searched out the Agent Provocateur bag again and he looked at her, pointedly. She barely held in a smile. His mind was dirty. That was not the kind of surprise she had in her mind. Maybe, if they were really a couple, she would have shown him.

He stood, picked up his jacket and collected his credit card from the table.

"I'll be in my office," he told her. "Put your things in the bedroom. You can of course, take them with you when you leave."

As he walked by, he extended his hand and his fingertips grazed the hair at the side of her face, making it fall back softly against her cheek. She watched him until he was out of sight, a kaleidoscope of butterflies dancing in her belly, tickling her with their wings.

* * *

Hours later, the sun had set but the busy bodies of Tokyo city were still wide awake and on the move. Syaoran sat in the formal living room, an elbow on the backrest of the Victorian couch, waiting for his date to finish dressing. He looked down at his black Chinese suit. Those celebrity guys she liked to watch were always impeccably styled, with colours and patterns and the latest trends. Would she think he looked uptight? He scowled. What did it matter what she thought? She should count herself lucky he was treating her after her shopping spree.

He checked the time on his phone and remembered the other date he was supposed to be having later. An agitated sensation settled in his gut and he ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it. Remembering he was going out, he quickly smoothed it back into place as best he could.

He let out an exhausted breath. He had gone out with the courtesan before. Tonight was an innocuous event. So he wanted to kiss her. Fuck her. For days. Wanting and doing were different things. He could control himself. He had proved that for almost two whole weeks.

Sitting up rigidly on the couch, he typed a message into his phone.

**_Something came up. Call you tomorrow_.**

He stared at the sent confirmation, frozen with some emotion he was not going to dissect and study. Almost immediately, Meilin replied.

**_:(**_

Then another text came.

_**Come home this weekend. I'm in Shanghai with Tomoyo. Will be there by tomorrow._**

Just as Syaoran was thinking about all the important stuff he had to do that weekend, the courtesan walked into the living room wearing a fitted dress that fell inches above her knees. It had an artful floral design reminiscent of the elaborate kimonos girls wore. There were waves in her hair and somehow she managed to get her bangs to sweep to one side of her forehead. She fiddled with her metallic clutch and he recalled how she had called him out for knowing the proper name for the bag. It had made him feel quite effeminate at the time and he had never resented his sisters more for taking him shopping with them.

He looked at his phone as another text came in.

**_Tell your boss your fiancée_ _needs you in her bed ;)_**

But he was busy. And yet, he could make time for the girl in front of him. He sighed.

**_I'll come. Got to go_.**

With that, Syaoran stowed his phone in his pocket and walked over to the courtesan and her radiant legs. The closer he got to her, the more distant his text conversation became, and by the time he stood within arm's reach of her, she was the only thing on his mind. She was literally glowing - like there was a blazing star inside of her and her flesh could barely contain it. His hands took hold of her and he ran them along the length of her bare arms, feeling the silky flesh.

He clutched her wrists.

"You look… very good," he said, a gentle heat rising up the back of his neck.

She turned her gaze from him, coyly.

"Thank you."

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Hai."

They left the penthouse, Syaoran barely able to keep his eyes off of her on the short walk to the elevator. Already he had discovered something new about her - a tiny mole on the right side of her neck, beneath the edge of her jaw. A perfect place to be kissed, actually.

As the elevator doors pinged open, he rest a hand on her lower back and he felt her tense. She looked up at him but he stared at the bellhop determinedly, like a hand on her back was a routine thing for him to do. He ushered her inside, all of a sudden feeling immensely proud of himself.

"Parking," he told the man.

The bellhop pressed the button for the underground parking and stared straight ahead like he was paid to do, ignoring the goings-on of the hotel guests. There was no doubt in Syaoran's mind the guy knew what the courtesan was with her suddenly regular visits and late stays. He stroked her spine lightly with his thumb and quite unexpectedly, he wanted there to be a way to get across to the bellhop that, like she had always said, she did not do _that _with clients. That she was not that kind of girl.

They reached the underground parking lot and hand still on her, Syaoran led her to his car. Her head whipped around to stare at him in awe and all at once, this black Aston Martin Vanquish Yamazaki had talked him into buying - with tears in his eyes - did not seem so unnecessary.

Syaoran opened the passenger door for the courtesan, thoroughly enjoying the way she smoothed the dress over her ass before sitting, and then elegantly swinging her legs in the car. He closed the door thinking, how much of that was her and how much was Matsushita? Sliding into the driver's seat, he found he did not care. He sat for a few seconds, appreciating her prettiness before inserting his keys in the ignition and pulling out of his parking space.

They had been driving for fifteen minutes when she asked, "Is it okay if I turn on the radio Li-san? It's a bit quiet."

"Sure," he answered.

But when after a minute passed with no sound, he turned his head to find her staring confusedly at the complicated dashboard, her forefinger hovering over it timidly. He understood. At first glance, it was a chaotic mess of buttons. He turned onto another street before pressing the radio button himself.

"These other two," he said, showing her. "They're for switching stations."

In retrospect, he should have told her no, because the high-pitched voices of j-pop singers blaring through his luxury car were almost comical. Fortunately, his windows were tinted. It was not long though before the j-pop really started grating on his ears. But the courtesan was bobbing her head in time to the music, mouthing the lyrics and something about it was so nauseatingly adorable, he left her alone. Only a few more minutes, he silently chanted to himself.

He took her to a restaurant in Shibuya. An Italian one Yamazaki had been raving about for the past couple of weeks. She had never eaten Italian food before, she told him, but from the elated look on her face as she delved into her braised lamb, he could tell that she found it very delicious.

"Do you come here often?" she asked, cutting a slice of potato into a bite-sized piece.

Syaoran sipped from a glass of Pinot Noir.

"This is my first time," he said.

She glanced up at him, her spirit somewhat diminished.

"This is some place you wouldn't normally go, right?"

That was true. He would have chosen something more exclusive. But Syaoran got her hidden question. So she still thought he was ashamed to be seen with her? Did she want to be shown off? Because he certainly was not going to do that.

"Hey."

She looked at him, her green eyes reflecting the lights around them as brilliantly as the moon reflected that of the sun.

"Don't take it personally," Syaoran told her, whatever crass words he had been about to say evaporating into the air with that one look. "I brought you here because I heard the food was good."

She smiled and it put the chandeliers overhead to shame. A passing waiter saw it and his gaze lingered despite the full tray in his hands. Syaoran gave a wry shake of the head. A month's paycheck and the man would be able to afford a date. If he was lucky, he knew her father.

The courtesan carried the conversation between them all evening long. Whenever she laughed at something she herself had said - something he had missed because he was preoccupied with the way her glossed lips moved - it was like a flower blossoming before his eyes. Her face shone with glee and it was cute how she kept glancing around and lowering her voice whenever she thought she was being too loud.

Her cheeriness was astonishingly infectious. As much as he tried to remain aloof, the corners of his mouth were constantly threatening to turn up. He should not get too involved. He was only having some fun after all. That was what men did with women in her profession. Knowing that cast a shadow over his evening. Knowing that other men had fun with her. Touched her. Kissed her. It was sickening.

It had been so easy in the beginning to dismiss her and regard her as a licentious escort and later, a stupid little girl; but, after her bouts of prattling about herself, her family, her hopes, her dreams, it was difficult to only see her as such.

After their deal was done, would she go on dates like she had with him? Ones where she went to men's apartments? Not every man had self-control. Understood boundaries. Took no for an answer. These things should not concern him and yet, they did.

"I'm returning to Hong Kong this weekend," he found himself telling her, as she ate a slice of ricotta cake.

"But we have weekends together too," she said, head tilted.

"I know."

"Did I do something...?"

"No."

"So after tomorrow, I guess it's goodbye?"

"Yes," said Syaoran, taking another sip of wine. "You can leave after midday. Tomorrow, I have to take care of a lot of things I was going to do this weekend. I won't have time for anything else."

"So you're taking the weekend off?"

"Not really."

A look of curiosity passed over her face but she did not ask another question.

"Will you be going to your apartment tonight?" he asked, when the waiter cleared away their dishes. "Or are you coming back with me?"

"I'm tired," she said, glancing around the restaurant. "I don't want to travel home."

She picked up her wine glass and finished her wine. Then she smiled wide and he noticed her drowsy eyes. Perhaps it was the lesser of two evils for her to return to the penthouse with him. He asked for a bottle of water as he paid the bill and he stood outside his car with her as she drank from it.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

She smiled again, even wider than before and hugged him around the waist.

"Really good."

He shook his head in amusement and quickly pushed her back before seating her in the car. So this was her when she was tipsy. She took a nap as he drove them back to the hotel. When they got there it was minutes to eleven. The courtesan seemed to have sobered a bit and he tried to remember just how much wine she had ingested. He could hold his liquor well so he had not thought twice when he ordered one of the more alcoholic wines. Or had he? Honestly, he was not sure, stranger to himself as he was that day.

"Tonight was really nice," she said, as they walked into the foyer, not a word slurred.

She tried to pull her feet out of one of her heels and stumbled forward. Syaoran caught her around the waist, hugging her back to his chest. She was not joking when she said she was clumsy.

"Take your time," he said, into her ear.

"Thanks," she murmured.

Syaoran's nose caught a whiff of the vanilla lotion she had bought. For him. Standing in her heels, meant that her neck was dangerously close to his lips. Still holding her securely, his left hand reached up and gently pulled her head to the side, exposing more of her slender neck. Her uneven breaths, full with anticipation, were some of the sexiest sounds he had ever heard. He breathed against her skin, testing, seeing if she would pull away. She did not.

Fuck.

He should be doing something... else... but what? She shifted and her butt pushed back into his groin, heating him up to a meteoric temperature within seconds. In less time than it took to blink, his mouth descended on her skin, right where that little mole he had spotted lay. Her knees weakened but he held her up, trailing hot kisses along the entire curve of her neck. When he sucked down on the area where her shoulder met her neck, she gave an audible gasp and grabbed hold of his hand around her waist, sinking her nails into it.

Yanking her against him even harder, Syaoran nibbled on her flesh. The vanilla lotion was the real deal. The courtesan moaned and he worked his way up to her chin, his crotch so sensitive he could feel every microfibre of his briefs. _Fuck_. He needed her lips. Now. He could not go to bed without having had them. He turned her around and pinned her against a wall with his body.

Her eyes had darkened, her cheeks were flushed and he could hear and see every breath she expelled - each one like a timer ticking down the seconds to the inevitable explosion. Their faces were inches apart and he gripped her arm, feeling powerful beyond measure.

"Li-san?" she murmured.

And that was it for him. That voice. _Her_ voice.

"You said I could," he said, all the while thinking about how her lips were going to feel against his.

"But then you said..."

Their foreheads touched and whatever words she was about to say melted away.

"I said what?" he whispered.

There were three loud, heart-thumping seconds of silence. Plenty of time to reconsider his next move. But Syaoran tilted his head, and shutting his eyes, reduced the space between them to nothing. His lips brushed hers briefly, the soft, plump flesh warm on his mouth, setting his body ablaze and making his muscles tremble.

Neither of them made a sound as he reluctantly pulled back. He stared into her green eyes, falling head first into her soul she bared so uninhibitedly. It was like witnessing what made the universe come to be - scary, exciting, too divine to comprehend all at once. All he could truly grasp was the ultimate sign of arousal lengthening in his pants. One more taste, he told himself. A real taste. And that would be it. He would be fulfilled.

So he closed his eyes and let his senses guide him to her mouth again. This time, when their lips touched, he pressed his own determinedly against hers, his insides rippling with volcanic heat. His jacket crinkled at the sides when she gripped it tight. For a while, he stood like that. Still. Not daring to move his lips further; just savouring this one touch. But when their lips smacked apart, they melded back together in a heartbeat.

Syaoran's fingers parted her hair as he cupped the back of her head. And he kissed her deeply, sucking traces of red wine and lip gloss from her mouth. The ground seemed to tilt beneath him and he lurched forward, pressing them even further into the wall, her head pinning his fingers against it.

But there was no pain - not even when she stepped on the toes of his shoes - only a ravenous hunger that could only be sated by her delicious lips. The paradox though, was that the more he got, the more he wanted.

His hands grabbed at her waist, her hips and he just might have taken handfuls of her ass and squeezed them because she squeaked. Fuck, yes. It was an unrestrained madness that was consuming him. The only thing that cooled his blood was the sound of her trying to breath in between his hungry kisses. He had to stop. Now. He had to stop because his hands were on the hem of her dress tugging it upwards.

Syaoran pressed one last firm kiss to her lips and wrenched his mouth from hers, breathing hard. They both stood in the foyer, clutching each other tight, trying to catch their laboured breaths. Swallowing, he disentangled their limbs - his knee had actually wedged itself between her legs. Lucky bastard.

Heart racing, he drifted back against the opposite wall, propping himself up.

"You should go to bed," he said hoarsely, watching her through eyes narrowed with desire.

Without question, the courtesan awkwardly slipped off her shoes, picked them up and started down the hall, her legs wobbling with each step. She glanced back at him, the hue of her lips deepened from the kiss, her hair in disarray. She tripped over her feet and shot out a hand to steady herself against a wall. Embarrassed, she ran the last few steps of the foyer and disappeared into the living room.

As Syaoran stood in the entrance, giving her time to reach her room because who knew what would happen if he kissed her again, he grinned up at the ceiling.

His name might mean wolf but, right now, he felt like a stallion.

* * *

A/N

Happy New Year Tomodachi! Hope 2015's been great for you so far and will continue to be that way.

Thank you again signed reviewers and anonymous reviewers kira, gina, Guest, cherryblossoming, Sabrina (guess you got your answer this chapter), ommmggggg (of course he's a gentleman. that's how he was raised), mistyxrose (it's always nice when a silent reader shares their voice), love it, raz3r (hopefully you're less frustrated now), Guest who signed as SD (you're probably less frustrated too lol), guest (no you're the one who's awesome. you reviewed), cody (no, he's not only marrying Meilin out of convenience :)), Guiltypleasure58 (hopefully you're still alive and read this chapter lol), Nom de Plume (so much to say to you but I hate long A/Ns. To be short: Sakura wears a lot of mini's which I described in more than one chapter so it's natural for her to wear daring but cute things. She is a little shallow because as you said she only had a puppy love so though she would want depth she has no experience searching it out. She is a hopeless romantic so every little good thing XL does is magnified and the negative things diminished because she needs to see the good in everyone. As for the wet dreams, she is inexperienced but not unknowledgeable. she knows stuff. btw you're the best critique I ever had. I saw your perspective and actually added things to chapters 10 and 11 to make Sakura's pov and wet dreams - which are pretty tame things - clearer :)).

Thank you as well Alissa, aisora14 (yes, he is!), en93 (greetings to Italy), guest, Guest, Anony (AND I UPDATTTTEEEDDD lol), Sweet Smiles (nice username) and Impatient. *Takes deep breath* Hope you enjoyed this very long, indulgent chapter. Won't be happening again anytime soon. hehe. Next chapter will be shorter but updates will be regular from now on up until chapter...24 I think. (That would be the first third of the story completed). Double update somewhere in the future. wink.

Read and Review. Until Next Time ^_^


	13. Farewell, My Courtesan

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Farewell, My Courtesan**

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

Leaning over the bathroom vanity and peering into the spotless wall mirror, Sakura pressed two fingers to the side of her neck, studying the reflection of the purple bruise there. She bit her trembling bottom lip which wanted desperately to curve into a smile. Since she had woken that morning all she could feel were Syaoran's lips on her skin and his hand around her waist, holding her right up against his sturdy chest. She shivered. Now she had discovered his mouth had left its mark on her and she did not know whether to die of embarrassment or jump in joy because she had gotten her first hickey.

Sakura could hold back her grin no longer. Weakened and smiling so hard her cheeks hurt, she drifted over to the tub and sat on its edge, her towel wrapped snugly around her damp form. She did not know a kiss could send chills through her body like Syaoran's had and - she rubbed her thighs together - make her ache between the legs. Goodness gracious. She had tried to kiss back but she was not sure how to exactly. Did Syaoran notice?

Unconsciously, she grazed her bare chest with her fingertips. Syaoran's mouth had been so hot and demanding; and, he had tasted like the wine he had been drinking earlier. His hands were really bold too. The way he had gripped her and taken charge of the entire situation without hesitation - _why_ had that been so exciting? So thrilling? She was not even sure which was more exhilarating - the kiss itself or her suspicions that Syaoran seemed to have really liked kissing her.

He could be cold at times; however, the way he had touched her last night, she had to wonder if he had warmed up to her now. How could you kiss someone you did not like, the way he had kissed her? With a burning eagerness and passion she felt deep in her gut? And last night he had been so gentlemanly at dinner. He had pulled out her chair and helped her order and engaged in conversation with her. He even got her water when she was tipsy. A naturally attractive man, he was made even more so because of those things.

Sighing dreamily, she dragged herself to her feet and changed into a pretty white sundress that flared out at the waist. Though she always took into consideration what her client might like to see her in, Sakura had never felt such an anxiety to look perfect as she did that morning. She quietly skipped to the kitchen, half-expecting to see Syaoran on his phone, messaging his employees and looking out at the city below. Disappointment settled in her stomach when the spot she had found him in yesterday morning was void of his presence.

"Courtesan."

She spun around wildly, heart pounding at the sound. Syaoran was standing underneath the doorway to his office, looking down the hallway at her.

"Li-san!" she exclaimed, putting a hand over her chest. "You scared me!"

He walked towards her and her face grew warm for apparently no reason, other than his sudden presence.

"You woke up late today," he said, and she tried to ascertain whether he was complaining. "Were you able to lower the blinds last night?"

"No," she said, pulling a face. "I guess I drank a little too much to need them. I slept like a baby. Sorry."

A strange expression she could not place crossed his face. It was a little like anger or disappointment but there was a hint of regret? What was he thinking?

"Are you hung over?" he asked, quietly.

Sakura grinned, heart beating extra hard because his piercing brown gaze was giving her the feeling that she was under oath.

"No! I feel fine!"

"Good. Breakfast is in the kitchen."

"Did you eat already?" she asked, a little disappointed.

"Yes."

She forced a small smile and began walking away when she felt his hand clasp her wrist. She gave a silent gasp as he drew her back, making her cheeks flame. Then, ever so softly he brushed the ends of her hair away from her neck. She tried to pull away when she realised what he was looking at but his grip on her hand was firm. He passed his knuckle over the hickey and she looked down shyly.

Then suddenly, his hands were gone from her.

"Go eat," was all he said before heading back to his office.

Still blushing profusely, she went back into the kitchen and uncovered the dishes on the breakfast table she had not noticed because her mind had been consumed with Syaoran. The continental hotel breakfast looked and tasted so delicious, she could not understand why Syaoran did not let her order it the day before. Maybe he was trying to be nice or maybe he did not like wasting food?

As she was spreading cream cheese on a bagel, Syaoran came into the kitchen carrying his laptop and speaking on his cell phone. Moving around some of the breakfast dishes - namely the bacon, croissants and cake - he settled his laptop on the table.

"Where was I?" he asked into the phone as he opened the computer with a glance at her.

She bit into her bagel and stared at him as he worked. Had he come to keep her company? She expected to have a chat like yesterday but soon found out that was not to be so. Every time he put down his cellphone, she thought she would finally get a chance to speak with him but he would either pick it back up to make a call or answer yet another one. It was a truly awe-inspiring experience to hear how many people called him for his opinion and direction and to recognize how knowledgeable and composed he was when he handled it all. She finished her breakfast quickly, not seeing a reason to prolong it when he had business matters to attend to. Then she packed all the empty plates together to make it easier for the maid when she came to collect everything.

"I'll be in the living room, Li-san," she told him, mutedly.

Syaoran, engrossed in a heated conversation in Cantonese, glanced up at her - but he may have just been looking up from his computer - before glaring out at the buildings beyond the windows. His icy ranting - something about factory rules and standards not being adhered to - followed her over to the living room where she tuned into a soap opera to fill the romantic void in her life. She really was being out of line trying to get that hole filled from a client. Syaoran paid to kiss her and he did. That was all there was to it.

Her chest felt hollow and suddenly, she could not wait to be home, going on a date with someone her father chose. Maybe that guy would feel like Syaoran and kiss like him too. Maybe he would be confident like Syaoran and look as good as him - though she did not how any of this was possible.

She sighed heavily and looked at Syaoran sitting at the breakfast table, blissfully unaware of how much he was throwing her mind into chaos.

* * *

Syaoran ended the call with two of his lawyers and dropped his phone on the breakfast table. Lawsuits against him and his businesses never ceased but there were always one or two that really got ugly. Grinding his teeth, he gazed across the room at the courtesan, who was quietly watching television. Compared to the storm inside of him with all the disasters he was dealing with that morning, she was a vision of serenity. She looked very pretty too in her mid-length dress. Sure he liked her fitted ones but those would attract the attention of other men and they did not need to know about the tight, nubile body she possessed. He craned his neck to get a better view at her. Yes. This loose ensemble was ideal for outings.

He shifted in his chair and licked his lips. Last night had been mind-blowing. A mistake. But mind-blowing still. He could feel himself wanting to go over to her. To touch and kiss her again. He knew he should not to do so. He knew it was wrong but it was like a sudden craving you got, one that you thought about for hours and days until you had what you wanted. Only this was a thousand times worse. And she was a thousand times more delicious than anything he had ever eaten.

Dammit.

He grabbed his phone and speed-dialled Meilin but before the phone could make its first ring, he cancelled the call. Blood pumping vigorously through his veins, he looked at the courtesan once more. Today was their last day together. Talking was not a crime. He set his phone down and went over to her, feeling like a dog being lured with the promise of a juicy steak even as the person holding it had a catch pole hidden behind his back.

"No countdowns, today?" he asked, glancing at the television screen as he came upon her.

Startled, she sat up straight. Jumpier than usual this morning, he mused.

"That's in the afternoon," she answered, as he sat down beside her. "In the morning, there are hit songs, entertainment news and soaps or reality TV shows."

The couple on screen were in a music studio professing their love for each other in the most dramatic, unbelievable fashion. Syaoran winced.

"They're terrible actors," he remarked. "The guy especially so."

The courtesan gasped so loud Syaoran's head snapped round at her.

"DO you know who that is?" she asked, a crazed glimmer in her eyes. "That's Shing K! A really famous rap artist. His voice is -! Ah! I can't even explain it! It's that good."

Syaoran stared blankly.

"He's still a bad actor."

The courtesan folded her arms, an indignant air about her.

"He's not that bad. He just started acting anyway. He'll get better. Just wait and see."

Syaoran resisted rolling his eyes as realisation dawned on him.

"You're one of his fangirls."

She flushed.

"No... well, kind of."

Syaoran figured, for her sake, he might as well nip that in the bud.

"Heads up, courtesan. You're never going to meet him. He's never going to fall for you. You're never going to be together."

Her brows crinkled.

"That's a little harsh."

"Call it what you want. It's the truth."

"His last girlfriend was a regular girl," she said. "He met her at the university that he took time off to attend for his Communications degree. She was so lucky. I mean he's really down-to-earth and funny. Loves his mother a lot. And he's good-looking too. I would _die_ if I ever met him in person."

Syaoran raised an eyebrow.

"Well not literally die!" she said, defending herself. "You know what I mean."

"No. I don't."

He looked at the actor again. He was not nothing special but Syaoran would grudgingly admit he had a smile that could make girls swoon, and the courtesan was about ten seconds away from fainting.

"Do you idolize every guy you think is good-looking?" he asked, dully.

"Of course not. He has to be a nice person too," she replied. "Don't you have any celebrity crushes?"

Syaoran shook his head.

"Seriously?" she asked.

"Seriously."

Why get invested in someone he did not know? The courtesan smoothed down the skirt of her dress and watched the scene playing out on the television.

"If you did have a crush though," she said, after a while. "What would she be like?"

Syaoran stared at her like she was a teacher who had asked a difficult question and he was the only student who did not know the answer but was put on the spot nonetheless.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked, his voice sounding strange to his ears.

She shrugged and looked at him through the corner of her eyes.

"Just curious as to what you find attractive."

Syaoran shifted over so close to her their thighs touched.

"What do you think I find attractive?" he asked, curious himself.

"I don't know," she said, looking up at him, bashfully.

He laid his palm on the couch behind her and leaned in.

"Guess."

Her neckline was a little low and he watched the gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she thought of an answer. They were not huge breasts but they looked full and he suddenly had the urge to take one in each of his hands and tweak the tips until they became swollen and hard.

"I think you'll like someone who looks like a model," she said, eyes focused on the floor. "Tall, slender, long hair. Someone confident and glamorous and sophisti..."

Her words faded away as Syaoran's gaze zeroed in on her succulent lips. Without meaning to, he lowered his head and kissed her cheek. She pulled back in shock and stared at him, her lips parted. For a moment, he watched her watch him and he saw her cheeks colour the more he thought about what he wanted to do to her. He moved in and closing his eyes only at the last second, pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. Slowly, they puckered and pushed against his timidly. He waited for more, enjoying the reciprocation more than the technique itself, or lack thereof.

Their lips snapped apart and the courtesan drew back, looking thoroughly disconcerted.

"I'm not a good kisser," she apologized. "I know I need a lot of practice."

Syaoran brushed her hair behind her ear, so he could cup her cheek, his gaze fixed on her lips.

"If I had a boyfriend, I'd be a better kisser," she said, the pace of her speech fast and high. "I'd know what to do. I should know what to do right -"

"I thought you did have a boyfriend?" Syaoran asked, looking at her pointedly as he caressed her cheek with his thumb.

She blushed.

"B-but you're not... _really_..."

Syaoran drew her head closer, his pulse quickening.

"Do you want to practice or not?" he asked, angling his head.

"I want to..." she murmured, non-committally.

An executive decision had to be made. So he leaned in and captured her lips again, suckling on them gently, pleased to know she did not need wine to make them taste so sweet. His chest expanded as he drew in a big breath and deepened the kiss, his spine tingling. The courtesan's hands gripped the back of his t-shirt, her fingernails grazing his skin through the thin material. Would she dig deeper into him, he thought, when he was thrusting inside her?

He steadily tugged on her hair, forcing her chin up, exposing her slim neck and hickey to him. He kissed her on the same spot and then chose a fresh area to mark. Intentionally this time. She gasped shakily as he sucked greedily on skin, making her squirm every time his teeth nicked her. Her irregular breaths and soft whimpers made him want to slip a hand into her panties just to see how wet she had gotten. His manhood began throbbing to life at the very thought and he could practically feel himself slipping into her tight depths, spreading her in a way she never had been before.

Body on fire, Syaoran pushed a hand under her thigh, wrapped one around her back and lifted her over his legs to straddle his waist. She pushed back and would have stood up, had he not locked his arms around her waist, securing her.

A look of panic washed over her face and he gave her a quick kiss on the mouth.

"Relax, courtesan."

"I am," she said, hands gripping his t-shirt front rigidly.

"No. You're not."

She looked off to the side and he loosened his hold on her slightly.

"I'm helping you to practice," he said, his calm voice not for a second betraying his hedonistic thoughts. "Nothing you don't want is going to happen."

He kissed her again, this time on her cheek. He breathed softly against the sensitive skin of her neck.

"We have an arrangement. I'll stick to it."

It took a while but eventually her grip slackened and he felt a magnificent pressure on his thighs as her bottom settled down on them.

"I'm sorry," she said, almost choking on her words out of nervousness. "This is a little new to me. I'm behaving silly, right?"

"No one was born knowing how to make out, courtesan," he assured her.

She smiled and he ended up smiling too. Gently, he cupped her cheeks and stared at length into her eyes. She held his forearms, her gaze roaming all over his face. She inhaled raggedly and focused on his lips.

"I'm going to kiss you now," he told her.

"Okay," she said, face reddening.

He took her lips again, with all the authority she had given him to do so, and he softly sucked them into his mouth absorbing all of her delicious taste. Her breaths deepened and she writhed on top of him when he sank his fingers into her hips. He pulled her a little closer and embraced her, running a hand up her back to clutch at her hair.

"Open your mouth," he murmured, huskily against her lips.

"What?" she whispered, in between kisses.

Brazenly, he said what he was thinking, "I want to put my tongue in you."

She broke the kiss and stared, wide-eyed. He fleetingly wondered if he could ever talk dirty to her and have her like it.

"You want to...?"

"Put my tongue in your mouth," he enunciated, kissing the side of her chin. "Let me."

He held her stare, unashamed and knowing, from that curious gleam in her eyes, that he could expect compliance. Slowly, she parted her lips and slackened her jaw. His heart skipped a beat and he reduced the space between them to a whisper.

"Stick your tongue out," he instructed.

There was a spell of hesitation before her tongue, moist and pink, came peeking past her lips. Lightly, he flicked it with his own, lighting up the nerves even in the farthest reaches of his mouth. The courtesan jumped and he tightened his arm around her and held her head just where he needed it, as he moved his lips against hers firmly.

"Again," he murmured, breathlessly.

He repeated the motion, this time without the startled response from her. When she opened her mouth a third time, he briefly slipped his tongue past her lips, before kissing her hard. Without his bidding, she continued opening up for him and whenever she stuck her tongue out, he lightly circled it with his and _fuck_, she was an undeniably active participant in his lesson. Teaching really was rewarding.

The courtesan moaned so quietly he almost thought he imagined it. But when she writhed against him again and grasped his shoulders tightly, he knew he had not. He sat up straighter and cupped her butt cheeks possessively as if they had his name written on them - a tantalizing idea. Then with a single-minded focus, he plundered the depths of her mouth like his deadly sin was the love-child of gluttony and lust.

The penthouse phone rang out and the courtesan yanked herself back, much to his displeasure. He moved to take hold of her again when his cell phone started ringing too. He huffed and pushed his hair out of his eyes and she quickly slipped from his lap and sank onto the couch, her head bowed and her shoulders moving up and down as she drew in lungfuls of air.

Chest heaving and crotch weeping with need, Syaoran got to his feet. He wanted to say something but his throat was clenched up, and the courtesan did not seem keen on looking him in the eyes any time soon. He glanced back as he walked away, hoping she was not regretting what had just happened, and wondering why he did not.

* * *

Sakura looked at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time since Syaoran had left to answer his phone calls. She could hardly believe what they had just done. Together! His _tongue_ had been in her mouth! And she had curled hers around his! She buried her face in her hands, half mortified, half excited. She had officially made out with a guy and she could still feel him all over every inch of her skin. She rubbed her legs together, feeling like she had yesterday. Only today, she was a little more moist down there than was usual. Her breasts felt heavier too. She bit her bottom lip and ran a hand down her thigh, shuddering at her own touch.

She swallowed. In theory, she knew she was aroused but to experience it to this extent was electrifying, incredible and scary all at once. In her heart, she still believed in waiting but when she sat atop Syaoran, his hands on her waist holding her steady, she had thought about what it would be like if they continued kissing and did not stop. What would it feel like to have his hands on her bare skin?

And how was he able to make her feel so good when she did not even know what his favourite colour was? It was strange, right? He was so forward too, telling her what he wanted and telling her how to do it. She was a bit ashamed to admit, she liked that.

She sighed. She liked to think of herself as a good girl but Syaoran was not her boyfriend and she had let him touch her as if he was because he paid her to. He did not even call her Ayame like her other clients. It was so impersonal how he always called her courtesan. Was he just kissing her now to get his money's worth before she left? She was left to speculate once more about whether he liked her even a little bit or not.

Glancing at the clock again, Sakura's stomach sank. It was almost time for her to leave and Syaoran had not returned. Dejectedly, she gathered her things, walking past his office quietly with her bags of clothes so she would not disturb him. She was heading back to the guest room to make sure she had everything when he intercepted her in the formal living room. He stared at the handbag on her shoulder.

"It's midday," she explained, shifting uneasily. "So, I was getting ready to leave. I just have to make one more trip to the room and call a taxi, okay?"

Syaoran's expression was distant and unreadable. Something about it unsettled her so she walked away. After she made sure she had everything, she went back to the living room but Syaoran was no longer there. She looked for him and found him standing in the foyer, leaning back against a wall, arms folded.

She held her bag close and approached him sheepishly, the memory of his tongue against hers, fresh in her mind.

"I called the taxi," she said.

He observed her with an icy silence.

"You couldn't wait for me to come get you?"

Sakura's heart pounded against her insides.

"What...?"

"I would have helped you with your bags. I would have called you a taxi myself."

Sakura's lips parted in a minute gasp. She did not think he would see her proactive behaviour as a desire to leave his penthouse as soon as possible. And after their kiss, he must think she did not like it so she wanted to get away. Now, beneath the cold visage he wore, she could make out a look of frustration and chagrin.

"Li-san," she said, drawing close to him. "I didn't want to disturb you. And I was a little embarrassed by how I behaved just now. And I didn't want to overstay my welcome. So I packed up and got ready on my own."

"Why were you embarrassed?"

"I'm not sure."

His hard stare fell away and a pleasant expression took its place.

"I'll help you with your things now," he said.

Together they made two trips down the floor hallway and rest her bags in front of the elevator. Syaoran slipped his hands in his slacks pockets and though he was the one nearest to the elevator button, he did not press it.

"It was nice," said Sakura, clasping her hands in front of her. "These two weeks I mean. Especially dinner last night. And thank you for the clothes."

He shook his head as if to say it was nothing.

"What's next for you now?" he asked, eyeing her intently.

"Well I guess I have the weekend off," she told him. "You already paid for it so I'm still kind of booked. Next week, it's back to my normal routine."

"Other clients."

"Hai."

He looked down at the floor then back up at her, not quite watching her dead in the eyes like he typically did.

"You'll practice with them?"

Sakura's cheeks warmed.

"Maybe," she said, softly. "I don't know. If I have to? I guess?"

There was a moment of thick, suffocating quiet in which Sakura wished she had sounded like she was more in control of her future. Syaoran hit the elevator button with the side of his fist. At once, it started to rise. He reached out and tugged at the skirt of her dress.

"Take care of yourself, courtesan."

"You too," she murmured.

Neither of them moved. But just when she felt his arms slipping around her waist, the elevator dinged and he moved back.

"Going down?" asked the bellhop when it opened.

"Yes," answered Syaoran, hands tucked at his sides. "She is."

Sakura stepped inside the elevator after all her bags were loaded inside by the bellhop. She had little time to register the nod Syaoran sent her before heading back to his apartment. Minutes later, as the taxi driver put her bags in his car, she stared up the forty-six stories of the Diamond Palace hotel, imagining Syaoran looking out the windows. Would she ever run into him again? Would he say hi if they met?

She fingered her lips lightly.

Sometimes when you drove into a wealthy neighbourhood or district you wondered about the people who lived in the best houses or on the highest floors. She had been privy to the unknown. She had seen Li Syaoran - a young man with a world of responsibilities who took life far too seriously. He was alone up there with his phones and computer and while he did not seem miserable, he could not really be happy, could he?

She walked towards the open car door thinking, if she was given the chance, maybe she could make him the happiest man in all of Asia.

* * *

A/N

Hey Tomodachi! Hope as always, you enjoyed this. Thank you again signed reviewers and anonymous reviewers Guest, Guest, chasingleaves (I like this more too), Monstar. xo, kurakura (oh no there's no real love yet. it's more infatuation at this point. And thanks, cuz that book irritated me. kinda skimmed it lol), Sabrina (I read on Forbes that some billionaires are so secretive no one really knows exactly where they live. And when I typed in the name of the richest man in Asia, the results were mostly business-related so I copied that for Syaoran though he isn't the richest. tabloids are more into people who cause a sensation :)). Thank you b2utifulshawol (LOL), abcdef (I wonder too), guest, reader, Guiltypleasure58, reader, Nom de Plume (I always had in my head that when Sakura got trained at the Hikaru House they taught her how to dress to make herself more appealing. I believe I hinted at that when S+S went to the mall :)).

Oh, when I said regular updates, I meant weekly yet somehow a week passed without me realising it. Yeah. When I checked when my last update was today I edited this chapter pronto lol. *Meilin* next chapter which may most likely be sooner than you think. She was supposed to be in this chap but** I didn't want to delay in updating so I broke it up into two and made this chapter more detailed so there is not as much progress in plot as I wanted**. Sry. But have a great weekend!

Read and Review. Until Next Time ^_^


	14. Hook, Line and Stupid

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Hook, Line and Stupid**

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

Syaoran gazed out at the freshly manicured lawns of his family's estate. Interspersed with flowering orchid and magnolia trees and finely-sculpted marble statues, it rivalled the view of the mid-afternoon sun beyond it. He drew a deep breath, inhaling the familiar Hong Kong air he never missed when he was away but always appreciated whenever he came home.

Folding him arms, he felt his senses dulling as he lost himself in thought. The corner of his mouth twitched as he pictured the courtesan watching some far-fetched show or the other. Her mouth was parted and her eyes were glued to the television set. She giggled when there was something funny being said and frowned when the show was not going how she liked. He had stood from afar and seen this exact scene many times and yet, had only been caught a few. He had wanted to join her every single time too but it was too unreal, the way he stopped thinking straight when he was near her and it was always a debate of whether he would go too far if he sat with her. It should not have been. He was a Li. Discipline was his blood.

He sighed. He should have taken more chances while he had her to himself.

"Xiao Lang, honey!"

He snapped around, heart racing. Almost every unexpected sound had him leaping into the air these days. Of course, his mind had always been adrift with thoughts of the courtesan just before he got startled so that may explain his newfound panic attacks.

He walked over to Meilin, who was sitting on the living room sofa, face beaming and hands clutched together in front of her in unparalleled excitement. Across from her, sat their jeweller, an older gentlemen dressed in a designer suit, and his ever-smiling female assistant/apprentice whose only discernible job it was to take the jewellery from a case and pass it to him.

"He's finally going to show us the _rings_!" she squealed, tapping the floor with her feet in glee. "And here he was making me think they weren't ready. What a horrid man you are, sir!"

The jeweller had come to deliver all the custom-made jewellery she had helped him design for the wedding ceremony and the reception. At some point, Syaoran had drifted over to the windows and apparently he had not been missed or needed until now which was fine with him. He sat beside her and she hugged his arm tight, shaking in anticipation. What women saw in jewellery was beyond him. It made a fool-proof gift though and for that he, like many men, were eternally grateful.

The assistant handed the jeweller a small, black box and he presented it to Syaoran, a restrained yet proud smile on his face.

"This is one of my best works to date. Please let me know if it's to your standards, Li-san."

Syaoran looked at Meilin, who was practically drooling over the box in the jeweller's hands.

"You take it," he said, wanting her to have the joy of revealing the final version of their rings for the first time.

Her grin was so big it could crush a hippo. She snatched it from the man and, looking around at all of them, took a very deep breath and raised the lid on the box. Cement must have started flowing in her veins because she froze on the spot and did not move for what seemed like ages. Syaoran glanced at the jeweller who was watching Meilin anxiously. What the hell was going on? Syaoran peeked at the platinum wedding bands, not quite able to determine as yet if there was a flaw of some sort.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Don't you like-"

Meilin burst into tears. Not dainty little tears either. Large, fat ones. There was practically a dam running down her cheeks. The jeweller smiled to his assistant but Syaoran was about ready to grab the man by the collar and demand to know why his fiancée was so upset when the rings cost half a fortune to get made.

He plucked the box out of her hands and took out the rings, studying them in the palm of his hand.

"What's wrong with them?" he asked, trying to figure that out for himself. Then he turned on the jeweller. "You will fix this. It clearly wasn't done to her liking despite you two spending hours together to make sure _this_ wouldn't happen. Meilin. Tell him what's wrong with them."

"They're… they're…" Meilin hiccuped and the jeweller's assistant plucked a tissue seemingly out of thin air and handed it to her. She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. "Xiao Lang... I can't even - they're... they're so... _PERFECT_!"

Syaoran stared blankly at her. _What_?

"Oh Xiao Lang," she wailed, throwing her arms around his neck and sobbing into his shoulder. "We're really getting married! I'm so happy. And I thought Fanren's and Fuutie's rings were beautiful! But ours is even more amazing. Astounding! How is that _possible_?!"

Syaoran half-smiled in understanding. Why was every woman in his family - except his mother - so melodramatic? It was like being in a constant theatrical performance. But Meilin was nowhere as bad as his sisters and he was certainly glad they were not there right then. The place would be in even more of an uproar if they were.

"No need to cry," he said, rubbing her back tenderly. "Here, try your ring on and see how it looks."

Pulling back, she wiped at her tears and took off her engagement ring, laughing at her own crazy behaviour. Then she flipped her long, black hair back and held out her left hand to him. Reverently, Syaoran held her hand and slowly slid the ring, tastefully studded with diamonds, onto her finger. She blushed the entire time and her breaths were so shallow, he was worried she would pass out at any moment.

"Give me yours," she said, and took it before he had a chance to hand it over.

She quickly placed it on his ring finger and flashed a bright smile. She sure was hyper but he liked that far better than the tears.

Simultaneously, they both held up their hands and tilted their heads in the same position, regarding their wedding bands. They caught each other's eyes and passed a secret message between them. One that said 'this is as good as it gets.'

"You two are so beautiful together," said the assistant, pulling out a tissue for herself.

"Very," agreed the jeweller. "I wish you nothing but success in your upcoming union."

"Thank you so much," said Meilin, eyes glued to her wedding band. "We're so happy. With the rings. With everything. We're on cloud nine. Right, Xiao Lang?"

"Yes," said Syaoran, slipping off his ring and putting it back in the box.

He made a move to retrieve hers but she yanked her hand away.

"A minute more!"

The assistant chuckled.

"All brides are the same way. Once they put on their rings, they never want to take them off."

"Well she has to take it off," said Syaoran. "The best man has to keep them until the wedding. Hand it over, Mei."

"You see Yamazaki all the time now," whined Meilin. "You can give it to him… say… next month?"

"No," said Syaoran. "He's getting them next week."

She huffed.

"Suppose he loses them?"

Syaoran raised a brow.

"Did I lose his? Come on. Give it."

"Whatever," she said, reluctantly sliding the ring off her finger. "I can just ask Chiharu for them when I want another look."

Syaoran tugged the ring from her before she could change her mind.

"He told me he has a very good hiding place," said Syaoran, smugly. "So say goodbye until the ceremony."

He snapped the box shut right in front of her face and slipped it into his pocket. Meilin glared at him, already fingering the area the ring had been on seconds ago.

"Look at the other jewellery you got," he said, getting to his feet. "Forget about this one for a while. It'll be yours forever soon enough."

"That's true," she said, sighing dreamily. "And then, I'll never take it off."

Syaoran thanked the jeweller and had a maid see him and his assistant out. He looked down at the glittering array of necklaces, rings and bracelets on the living room centre table.

"What now?" he asked her.

"Now we have to decide on the flowers and the menu."

"You know," said Syaoran, sitting back down next to her. "Wanting me in your bed and food tasting aren't the same thing."

"How else am I supposed to lure you home to get your opinions?" she asked, hugging him around the waist and throwing a leg over his knees.

"You can call me," he told her. "Ask candidly."

She rolled her eyes.

"Because that works _so _well. You always conveniently have something to do when I start talking about the wedding."

"Not at all," said Syaoran. "I _always_ have something to do. Convenience is not the issue."

"Then what is?"

He stared at her. He vaguely remembered having explained this about ten times already.

"I want a simple wedding. You want a grand one. If that's what you want you can't seriously expect me to want to help plan that on top of everything that I have to do at work. It'll be too chaotic and you said it yourself, I'm not romantic. You have a mother, a mother-in-law and four sisters-in-law. Let's not forget Daidouji. You have more than enough opinions and they're all good at planning events."

"I like getting your input too," she said, rubbing his chest. "I want to know I'm making the right decision."

"Whatever you like is the right decision," said Syaoran.

"Aww honey," she said playfully and kissed him on the lips.

He cupped her cheek and returned the kiss, feeling himself go semi-hard in a heart beat. He pushed her down on her back, hiking her leg over his hip and feeling no shame for pressing his hardness into her. His body was singing, sure that at long last it would be home soon.

"Bedroom," he muttered, between kissing, not wishing to be walked in on by the help or worse, his mother.

"Uh uh." Meilin pushed him away. "I'm not falling for that again."

"For what?" he asked, panting.

"The last time you wanted to go to the bedroom you said it was just to kiss a little. The next thing I know, you got me naked and we almost made love."

"Meilin, we've been having sex for years. Breaking a 'wedding abstinence vow' isn't going to make the world end."

"But," she said sitting up. "It's going to ruin the whole experience of being reunited after months. Trust me. It'll make the honeymoon sex even better. Fanren and Fuutie stopped having s-"

"I don't need to know about my sisters 'sex lives.' Thanks."

"Why are you saying it like it's hypothetical? They have kids Xiao Lang. They're having sex. And from what Fanren tells me, she and the husband go at it like rabbi-"

"**I'm not listening**," Syaoran said, loudly.

"You're impossible," she said, giving him a quick smooch on the lips. "The wait will be worth it. You'll see. I have great things in store for you husband."

"What kinds of great things?" asked Syaoran, meeting her for another kiss.

"You'll have to wait and see. Don't worry. You're being so good waiting with me, I'm going to be even better to you when we're not waiting. I know it's not easy. Especially for a man. But you're doing so well. And just so you know, this is the first and last time I'll ever hold out on you. Promise."

Syaoran nodded, but started shrivelling in his pants. That look in her eye that said he could do no wrong had never bothered him before but it sure as hell had him sickened with himself. Yes, he still did not regret kissing the courtesan because it was something he had constantly been wanting to experience but that did not mean he did not know right from wrong. The thing about wrong though was that it had a tendency to feel so fucking good.

He had thought about telling Meilin about the kiss on the plane ride over to Hong Kong. But as soon as he had gotten there, Japan and what had happened in it seemed like a million miles away and the idea of telling her about something that could hurt her, something that would never happen again, seemed somewhat irresponsible.

It was shocking how that girl had brought out a side of him he did not think existed - one that needed to be locked far away before it could do further damage.

"I'll wait as long as you want," he said, truly believing every word he spoke.

"That's why I love you," said Meilin, pecking him on the lips.

She looked him in the eyes and he stared back.

"Love you too, Mei."

She giggled and straddled him. He sat up, uncomfortable with the feeling of déjà vu he was getting. Damn, that girl was like a _leech_ on his brain.

"Remember what you told me we would discuss when you got back home?" asked Meilin.

"Yes," said Syaoran, weary with the conversation even before it began.

"Don't make that face," chastised Meilin. "Come on, Xiao Lang. People keep asking me about my love life. I'm tired of saying no comment when I have the best news in the world. It's not like I'm going to announce our wedding date and location. I just want to announce our engagement."

He squeezed the back of his neck, agitated.

"Just our engagement," she stated, firmer and louder. "It's not a big deal."

"If it's not a big deal, then why do it?"

She gave him one of her 'do I have to dignify that with an answer' looks.

"I have an Elle magazine cover and feature coming up. I want to tell people I'm engaged to my long-time lover and best friend. Why does that sound unappealing to you?"

"It doesn't. It sounds unnecessary. Our closest family and friends know. That should be enough. I don't need cameras all over me when I'm trying to conduct business and be taken seriously."

"So you're saying my career isn't serious?"

Syaoran leaned back on the sofa.

"Let's not go there again," he said, in a serious tone that made even Meilin think twice.

He did not like arguing with her and would go silent rather than do so. As much as she liked to give the silent treatment she could never take it. When it came to her 'career' he had learned to listen to all her supposed crises, and challenges and heavy workload without criticism.

"You don't try to understand my world," she muttered, averting her eyes.

Syaoran blinked. Like she was aware of exactly what he did everyday. In fact, he remembered her saying once that his job was not that difficult. That all he had to do was boss people around. So _who_ was not being understanding?

"Meilin," he said, calmly. "Don't act like I don't go along with what you want most days."

"But the tabloids are calling me Lonely Li Meilin. _Lonely_. Xiao Lang you can't have people thinking I'm going to die alone. I have to respond to this…this… slight on my dignity and my honour as a Li."

"Tabloids are run by people who make a living making fun of others," he said, slipping his hands around her waist. "They're pathetic. Ignore them."

"It's not just them. It's everyone. Please Xiao. Don't you love me enough to make our relationship public?"

Syaoran ran a hand through his hair. He generally hated proving how he felt with some forced form of public affection. And she and her publicist were always trying to get him to do that. Why did she not understand that keeping their relationship private kept it healthy? She herself had told him stories of how gossip and rumours stirred up by tabloids and such broke up some of her friend's relationships. She was already a jealous person too.

"How about you say you're seeing someone," he said. "You have been for a while. You're happy together but would like your privacy respected. And that's it. All right?"

"That sounds like I'm making up a boyfriend so I wouldn't look like some depressing old maid. Who's going to believe that? Ooh. I got it. How about I take a pic of my engagement ring and post it on my Instagram? No words. Just leave it there and watch the internet crash?"

Syaoran thought about this. It did not seem that bad.

"Then when I have the interview with Elle magazine I can talk about us," said Meilin, making him give a silent groan. "In a totally obscure way of course," she added. "And then, when you're ready we can reveal that you're the Mystery Man! By the way, _when_ would you be ready, exactly?"

"When I'm done in Japan," he said, not entirely certain when that would be.

Meilin grinned and threw her arms around Syaoran's neck, giving him a big, wet kiss.

"You are the _best_!"

She hugged him tight around the neck and just as Syaoran was starting to lose all circulation, she pulled back, eyes bright.

"Sakamoto Ayame!"

Syaoran's heart gave such a powerful jolt, he almost died on the spot.

"Excuse me?"

"Tomoyo was telling me about some girl she met at a fundraiser in Tokyo. Her name is Sakamoto Ayame I think. She said you were there. "

Syaoran consciously took steady breaths and made a frown.

"Right... the auction," he said, as if barely recalling the event.

"She's totally obsessed over this girl and has been trying to get in contact with her ever since." She laughed. "Now that I think of it, this kind of sounds like Cinderella. That girl, Sakamoto Ayame is Cinderella right. And she left the ball early and Tomoyo's the prince trying to find her. Ah... would true love prevail? Or will it be happily never after?"

Meilin was laughing at her own fairytale joke but Syaoran sat grimly, trying his best to look uninterested because typically, he would not truly want to hear about Tomoyo's mad adventures. However, it was downright eerie to be hearing the 'courtesan name' of a girl he had made out with only yesterday, issuing from his fiancee's mouth. He had to wonder, did she know? Was this all some elaborate trick leading up to the finale slap across the cheek?

"She's been begging me to ask you if you know how to get in touch with her. She's asked Eriol but you know him and his games. He left her with more questions than answers. I think he knows who this girl is. Do you?"

"I don't find out the name, number and address of everyone I happen to say a few words to Meilin."

"I suppose not. Tomoyo said she's really cute. Is she? Cute?"

"There's no right way to answer that."

"Yes there is. Say no."

"Right. So you could say, 'oh, so you were checking her out Xiao Lang? Is that what you were doing, checking girls out at auctions? Is that what you're about now?'"

Meilin hit him hard on the chest.

"I do **not** sound like that!" she said, referring to him imitating the attitude in her voice.

He rose to his feet, and at the same time brought her to hers.

"I have a few calls to make before we head out," he told her, desperate to get the hell out of that conversation. "I'll meet you back here in thirty."

"Yeah yeah. I'll just be admiring my new jewellery one more time," she sing-songed, picking up an extravagant diamond necklace from the table.

He glanced back at her as he walked away, her curvy profile printing out enticingly in her tight jeans and blouse. It was always a proud moment to walk into a room with her by his side and watch the envy in the eyes of the men and women there. Who would notice the courtesan coming in behind her? That whole thing with that girl had been an enormous mistake brought on by a lack of... stimulation. He would say nothing to Meilin because it was not important; a minor indiscretion he would forget about in time. Then it would be like it had never happened.

* * *

Birds chirped merrily outside as Syaoran reclined in the ornate armchair in one of the mansion's studies. He was regarding a large painted portrait of his father. Thick eyebrows, focused stare, severe mouth - the worst record of the man in Syaoran's opinion. He detested it and yet, it was the only picture of his father he could stand to look at - it was the strangest thing.

He had his laptop open on his desk but he was not really doing any work. He just needed to get away from planning the wedding with Meilin and his eldest sisters, Fanren and Fuutie. Worse, Fanren had brought her twin four-years old daughters with her and they were constantly climbing all over him, and they were at that annoying stage where they asked a lot of questions and no matter what he answered, they kept asking, "But why Uncle? Why?" If he heard the word why _one more time_... He massaged his temples. No answer could be too complete for children. It was like they thought you were holding out on them just to be wicked. He did not envy anyone with kids. That was for sure.

At least earlier that day, they had all taken a small trip to look at the sprawling 66 000 square feet mansion Meilin had him building from scratch and miraculously, she had not made any more changes to the design which meant all that was left to do were interior designs and finishes. So after the honeymoon, they might actually have somewhere to live that was not in his parent's house - not that he would mind that so much.

Pulling his laptop closer to him, he sat watching his inbox as more and more emails came pouring in. He had been in the study for close to two hours and he really should have read a few instead of leaving them to pile up. Well, he did not have an executive assistant for nothing. He would forward some to Hu Ming and have her deal with them. That was his intention when he poised his fingers over the computer keys but he ended up closing the window and opening up a new one. He quickly typed Hikaru House and hit Enter.

Hesitating for a grand total of three seconds, he clicked on the website and in a blink, found _her_ profile. Yes. The one he had resigned himself to forgetting about. He rest his elbow on the desk and dropped his chin in the palm of his hand as he stared at her swimsuit-clad body. The things he could do to help her practice. He licked his lips, almost tasting her on them. He shook his head.

_Don't go there, Xiao Lang._

But soon enough he was pondering what she was up to. It was Monday morning today and though she did not work on that day or Tuesday, she could still be booked in advance. And the only way to know if someone had booked her would be to call the agency and try to book her himself. He drew a deep breath, drumming his fingers against the wooden desk. Exhaling through his lips, he looked off to the corner of the room. Did he need to know so bad? No. But he _wanted_ to know.

He leaned back on the chair and gripped its arms. He just wanted to know if she was all right, he reasoned. Someone had to look out for her seeing as she was incapable of adequately looking out for herself. He pulled out his cellphone from his pocket and dialled the well-known number to the agency to get in contact with the same girl he had claimed not to know two days ago. Unbelievable.

"Hikaru House, Naoko speaking."

Syaoran briefly contemplated hanging up like a cowardly prank-caller, but he remained on the line out of sheer pride.

"I would like to book one your courtesans," he said. "Sakamoto Ayame."

"May I ask the proposed date and time?"

"Wednesday," he answered. "All day."

"I apologize," said Naoko, making his heart race. "The entire day isn't possible."

"Why?" asked Syaoran, sounding like one of his nieces.

"She is otherwise engaged that evening."

Syaoran glared at the courtesan's body on his laptop screen. She did not waste any time, did she?

"If you would still like the entire day," said Naoko. "Sunday is possible."

Sunday? Why was it that whenever he called for her nowadays, he had the unfortunate luck to find her whole week filled? He knew it was a bit crazed, but he could not help but think of her as jilting him somewhat. He was still thinking about her every day but she was preparing to date other men already? Did he not leave some kind of impression? One that would make her wait a while before dating again because she was pining over him, waiting for him to call? He had tried to relax and be all nice to her too. Also, their kissing had gotten really good in a short space of time. But she had been embarrassed. Had the tongue been too much?

"Ah... sir? Are you still there? I didn't get your name."

"Li Syaoran," said Syaoran, without thinking.

"Oh, Li-sama! I'll put you on to Satomi-san. She would want to handle your call personally. Please hold while I transfer you."

Before he could say_,_ no, he heard, "Li-san! This is Satomi. How lovely to hear from you."

Syaoran's heart skipped the proverbial beat. Why was he still on this call? He was in the deep end now, dammit. But his nerves quickly morphed into resentment.

"I called for my courtesan," he proclaimed. "But she's booked."

A pause, most likely due to his impertinent tone.

"You did not express interest in extending your time with Ayame," said Satomi, with forced politeness. "Had I known you wanted this, we could have worked things out to your favour."

She was right but Syaoran was not going to admit that.

"Well I do want more time with her," he said, with impetuous flair. "This week."

His inner voiced asked, _you do_?

"Ayame had been booked several times this week," said Satomi, cautiously. "It is not Hikaru House policy to have a courtesan cancel on a client."

Bull.

"Isn't that what you did before? She mentioned she would have been disappointing a few."

"I apologize. She should not have said that. Those clients did not book their dates as yet. They merely expressed directly to her that they wanted to take her out again."

Syaoran pulled a face. Who did they think they were?

"Ayame can be with you starting from Sunday morning, Li-san. Do you accept?"

Syaoran looked at the courtesan's pictures again, contemplating his next move. Satomi did have a great deal of respect for her clients. It would not do well if word got around she was playing favourites. He knew he could not buy the courtesan out of her dates, though he really wanted to at the moment.

His inner voice, speechless, shook the head that it did not have.

"I understand the inconvenience this may pose you," said Satomi. "Let me make it up to you by offering you a finer delicacy than simply dating."

Syaoran's stomach flipped. Finer delicacy? The fuck.

"Explain," he said.

"By now you must have noticed a chaste quality about Ayame."

"It's obvious," said Syaoran, his brain on high alert.

"Would you like Ayame to be exclusive to you for a longer length of time?" asked Satomi, smoothly. "That way you can take your time with her and really submerge yourself in the Indulgence Package? A girl like her needs a man to show her the way of the world. You can be that man. And when you're ready to enjoy what she has to offer, we can discuss terms and conditions."

Syaoran squinted, the pores on his arms rising.

"She... _agreed_ to this?"

"I am certain a handsome, accomplished man such as yourself can woo the girl so thoroughly that when I approach her with your offer, she will readily accept."

"Who else received this offer?" asked Syaoran.

"You are the first. If you don't accept, there are others. Of course if you do accept, you will still be expected to bid but this way, you can have more access to her until that time and you can have some sensual sessions as well."

Syaoran's intestines felt like they were twisting around each other. He _told_ that girl this would happen. And should he tell her of this conversation she may refuse to believe it. But she could believe it. And if she left the agency, what excuse would he have for seeing her? This thing was getting way too fucked up._He_ was getting way too fucked up.

"If I take this offer," he said, slowly, not sure what he was doing. "I want her to stay nights as well."

"You must understand my reluctance to allow that," said Satomi, not sounding happy with his suggestion.

"She can vouch for me," said Syaoran. "I respect her boundaries. She will have her own room and she will go to it alone each night. Our previous arrangement was based on a schedule I had weeks ago. Now I may need to go to evening events. I want a date for them as well. It makes little sense to have her worn out with travelling. I'm not paying you for a pretty zombie, Matsushita."

"She is not used to offering companionship for such a demanding length of time. She will have to get an optional half-day off, of her choosing, every week."

"Done. But I must be told which day in advance."

"That is no problem. I will of course have to verify her willingness to stay nights with you."

Syaoran smiled.

"That's fine."

"Will you be willing to hold while I contact her?"

"Sure," said Syaoran, excitement and dread bubbling in his stomach.

The line went silent while he waited, but he still strained his ears to try to catch the delectable sounds of the courtesan's voice even though she was on another phone line altogether.

"Li-san?" said Satomi, after some time. "She has consented."

He released a pent up breath.

"Good."

"Courtesans keep in touch with the agency regularly," said Satomi. "If you fail to comply with what we have discussed, Ayame will not continue to stay with you."

"Understandable."

"And Li-san, Ayame is purer than most come these days. When you put in your offer, seven figures is the starting point."

Syaoran stiffened.

"Fine," he said, sure he was never going to pay her that amount of money.

Not all at once anyway.

He had told the courtesan he did not pay for sex and it was the truth. But if Matsushita needed to hear that he was willing to, then he would let her think so.

"She will be back at your hotel Sunday morning at eight. I'll transfer you to Naoko for the payment. Of course, an upgraded package means an ungraded fee."

"Obviously."

"It's a pleasure doing business with you, Li-san."

After exhausting his bank account of even more cash, Syaoran leaned back in his chair and looked up at the portrait of his father - the one person who he knew would not judge him. He just agreed to pay to sleep with the courtesan and have her live with him in his penthouse. But, he did not really want to, did he? He agreed to those things to protect her from someone bad. Someone who wanted to use her.

He grabbed at his hair and pulled. Somewhere a voice in the back of his mind was cackling and that was probably a euphemism for: _stupid ass, Xiao Lang_.

* * *

A/N

Hey Tomodachi! Thanks again signed reviewers for reviewing and thanks again anonymous reviewers kura kura, Guest, Madison, b2utifulshawol (lol), reader, Ifra, abcdef (chapter 20 something), Raz3r, aisora14 (something tells me she isn't going to want to quit any time soon) and Sorry just super excited. (I wanted to post Saturday but was unable to login to my account. Some kind of server error. Think it was the site). Read and Review. You almost got a double update but I'm not finished with this week's chapter. hehe. Depending on what I decide Touya and Yukito may kinda make an appearance. And more on the upcoming nuptial later. Until Next Time ^_^


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